#Machi fanfic

[o7k5a8m9i]

~♡Perfect Little Family ♤~ Hisomachi

Pic by me♡ credit to @itsmyara for the little Hisomachi icon🃏🧵 ⚠️⚠️ 15+⚠️⚠️ because of mature content💮 read at your own risk

YOU MUST READ THIS before reading this fanfic!! ➡️➡️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Again the post above is a MUST READ if you wanna understand the story 😭🃏🧵💖✨

Chapter 1: ~Machi's unfortunate surprise~🧵🃏

{A/N Forgive me for the OOC, AU, and cringe!😫🎐}

[Machi Komacine is a 23 year old woman who's apart of the Phantom Troupe. a group of thieves and murders but to her they were like family. well all except one... Hisoka Morow replacement number 4 he had joined the Troupe 4 years ago and him and Machi became...... teammates to say the least she didn't really like him but over time developed feelings for the stupid clown but she'd never say it. of course he had feelings for her too and told her all the time. but she always just took what he said with a grain of salt not sure if he's lying or not but regardless things were about to change.

April 10th the troup was all together celebrating a big heist they just pulled off. so they decided to have a party✨ most of them got drunk but not Machi nor Hisoka. although something did go down between them that night Machi blamed it on "I was drunk" she'd always lie or blame it on something she'd never amit to it. a few days later Machi noticed something... Different...but didn't say anything. a 1 week later some of the Troupe decided to move to the next city but they ALL agreed to meet up again in a month. they wanted to hangout more. (Look idk I just need a excuse 😭) when they got to the new hideout Machi had to know. and so that night she found out...she was pregnant.... she didn't tell anyone but she was having a heart attack she had no idea what to do....this made her feel weak. she let her gard down what was she to do?...but before anything. she'd wait till he arrived... The father of this baby.. now as I said before not all the Troupe came with Machi the only people at the hideout right now were Chrollo, Pakunoda, Shalnark, Shizuku, Kortopi & Machi. they were still waiting for the other members one of them being the father of this kid. and so a few days past and now everyone was there. everyone except Hisoka. now normally Machi wouldn't care if he showed up or not but this was different they needed to talk.... two MORE days later and the clown finally decided to show up. although Hisoka was only planning to stay a few days maybe a week that was about to change once Machi starts talking. Chrollo exampled that he'd be staying in this city for a few months because he was a bit tired of moving and he added that any other member of the troupe could stay with him and that was all.]

Hisoka: Hi Machi~

Machi: Hi...or whatever...

Hisoka: so how are you doing?~

Machi: what do you care!

Hisoka: oh my dear Machi I care because your my friend, Teammate, Fellow spider and maybe something more someday~

Machi: S..Shut up! we're teammates that's it!

Hisoka: oh ok...~ -_-...so how are you?...

Machi: ....[She really didn't wanna say but... he was the father... she had to...]

Machi: not great....

Hisoka: oh my what's wrong dear~?

Machi: ... nothing....

Hisoka: oh stop lying and tell me. my dear~

Machi: ... I'll tell you later...

Hisoka: oh ok~...but don't think I'll forget~

Machi: yeah whatever..//.....

-To Be Continued- 🧵🃏

....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†..[END of this chapter]🌙✨☁️☀️ A/N I hope you enjoyed I'll write part two soon🧵🃏🌸 anyway thanks for reading!!☺️ I know it sucked🍭 if you have anything you'd like to say/question's let me know 💙 again this is a AU✨🌹 and OOC!😫🙏,

Tagging people who voted to see this Story @thelovelyghostwriter @zillybusiness @rinhxh @jandeline190 @dekingcobra

[eyesofbong]

A Chrollo x F!Hunter Reader Fic | Summary

Best advised to be read in dark mode. AO3 link coming soon!

★ 18+ MDNI WARNINGS: descriptive murder, burning of corpses, torture?, arson, slight implication of attempted suicide, gore, blood, violence, strong mentions of sexual abuse towards children including human trafficking, implied kidnapping, perversion of innocence, predators, CP, and implied rape. (NO I DO NOT ENDORSE THE ABUSE OF CHILDREN. it is only briefly mentioned since it is disgusting to keep the story realistic and strictly used as awareness since this is actual problems in the real world they don't just kidnap children. I WILL NEVER! write about non-con with underage characters or children, rape, and assault.) ★

☆ word count. 8.9k (sheeeesh had to hold back on somethings)

✥ Chapter Summary: Lost in the shadows of your despair, haunted by memories of the children you once saved, you find yourself drifting further from your purpose. But when a call from Chairman Netero breaks the silence, you're pulled back into a world you thought you'd left behind, drawn into the unknown for one last round — for the sake of saving a young man from making the same mistakes you did. ✥

The church was still, bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles. You remained in the pew, feigning prayer, while your mind wrestled with turbulent thoughts.

But before you found yourself here, in this quiet sanctuary, there was a journey—a path that led you back to the world you had once left behind.

“You can’t save them all.”

The words echoed in your mind—a truth you had grappled with for most of your life. So why was it so hard to accept that cruel reality? Why did you live your life the way you did? Most people would argue that they wish they had your power and skills. But they didn’t understand. They couldn’t comprehend the burden that came with such strength.

Why would anyone want to carry that weight for so long?

Power is a double-edged sword. If you aren’t corrupted by it, you’re crushed beneath its weight. How easy it is to destroy rather than create.

You often wondered why Netero had chosen you that day. What did he see first—the helpless child who had lost everything or the Hunter who would grow into his greatest soldier?

You trailed behind the men, each step leading you deeper into the belly of this vile place. They had no idea you were not one of them, no clue that every word you spoke and every move you made was part of a carefully laid trap. The air around you was thick with malice, a foul concoction of despair, fear, and predatory intent.

Since taking the head of your family’s killer, there has been a void in your heart—one you filled with vengeance.

But now, you had a new purpose: to use your power to hunt down the worst of humanity, like this network of mafia traffickers.

Suddenly, your senses sharpened. You heard it—a soft, muffled cry—the children.

The group leader, a man with greasy hair and a twisted grin, laughed. “You hear them, little rascals?” he sneered, gesturing ahead with a perverse pride. “Got a fresh batch of chicklings just yesterday. Innocent, full of life... worth a lot more in certain markets, if you catch my drift..."

A wave of revulsion swept over you, but you kept your face steady, fighting internally the burning in your throat.

Sick bastards. That’s all they were to you. There was nothing more vile than preying upon children, tearing away their innocence, and selling their pain.

Once, you had believed killing was always wrong. But when faced with monsters like these, death seemed like the only solution.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right, Mistress?” The leader’s voice was thick with expectation, his beady eyes studying you for any sign of weakness.

You met his gaze with a cold, calculated, calm one. “The price is no problem, but I’ll need to see the ‘quality’ of the children you speak of to ensure they’re worth it,” you replied, playing along with his sick game. He grinned, his yellowed teeth bared like a predator sensing victory.

“Of course, my lady, right this way,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him up a rickety flight of stairs.

As you ascended, you noticed the tapes scattered on the floor—stacks of them carefully labeled and arranged. Your heart sank at the sight. You knew exactly what they were: recordings of abuse. Child pornography is waiting to be sold and distributed. Evidence of what these children had endured and what they were being forced to relive in the most horrific way possible.

Images of small, terrified faces pinned to the walls, some in tears, others with expressions frozen in fear, burned into your mind. You forced yourself to keep moving, to keep your eyes forward, your face blank. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to lash out, but you had to stay focused. You had to see this through.

When you reached the top, he led you to a door and pushed it open with a creak. Inside, the children were huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling. At the front stood a small boy with big gray eyes—"The runt." of the group. His clothes were torn, dirt smeared on his cheeks, but there was something in his gaze—a spark of defiance that hadn’t yet been snuffed out. The other children seemed to hover protectively around him, even in their weakened states.

“Well, what do you think of these little lambs?” the leader asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Aren’t they precious?”

You glanced at the children, your heart aching. For a split second, your gaze softened when you saw the small, porcelain-skinned boy, his eyes locked onto yours. He seemed to sense something in you, something different. You took a slow, steady breath, and without moving your lips, you mouthed, “I’m here to help.”

The boy’s grip on the bars loosened slightly. Hope flickered in his big gray eyes. You could feel the children’s fear and desperation mingling with a fragile thread of trust. They were so small, so fragile, yet somehow still fighting.

“They are precious,” you murmured, your voice taking on a steely edge. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”

The men’s laughter faltered. They sensed the shift, but too late. You moved swiftly, raising your hand. A wall of stone shot up from the ground, separating the children from their captors. Panic spread among the men as they scrambled for their weapons, but you were already moving.

With a flick of your wrist, a vine extended from the stone wall, and in its grip, a sword was handed to you. The blade flashed, slicing through the air. In one swift motion, you severed their hands before they could draw their guns. Blood spattered against the walls, and the men screamed.

“You crazy bi—” one of them began, but his voice was cut off as you grabbed his face. Nen flames flared from your palm, melting his skin. His screams turned to a hideous, gurgling cry as you slammed him against the wall, against a picture of him touching one of the children.

“My flames are nothing compared to the ones you’ll face for eternity,” you said, your voice cold and unwavering.

"THE DEVIL! YOU'RE THE DEVIL!" he shrieked, his voice cracking in terror.

“YOU’LL GO TO HELL TOO!” another screamed.

You tilted your head slightly, unbothered. “I know,” you replied calmly. “And I’ll be right there with you... to make sure you suffer.”

With a final, furious surge of nen, you let the flames consume him, his body twitching as the fire took hold. One by one, the men fell, their screams swallowed by the inferno of your rage.

The air thickened with the stench of burning flesh, but all you felt was a calm, cold satisfaction. You took a deep breath, letting the fire die down, leaving only smoldering ashes behind.

The floor was now slick with blood, staining everything it touched. You closed your eyes and focused, drawing on your nen, the energy that flowed through your very being. You felt a ripple within yourself, a gathering of moisture in your veins, pulling towards your fingertips. With a single thought, you summoned it forth.

20%

A small, shimmering blob of water began to form, hovering just above your palm. It glistened with a faint blue hue, infused with your nen—your life force flowing through it. The water was more than liquid; it was an extension of your will, a manifestation of the purity and cleansing you desired.

You moved your hand slowly, and the blob expanded, reaching toward the crimson stains that pooled on the floor. It touched the blood, and a strange, almost serene reaction occurred. The nen-infused water seemed to drink up the blood, absorbing it into its depths, turning it from a crystalline blue to a dark, murky red. It quivered and shifted, gathering every last drop, until the floor was clean.

Once it was done, you flicked your wrist, and the blood-tainted water dissipated into steam, evaporating into the air. The scent of iron and smoke faded, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of moisture.

You turned to the vine still hanging from the wall. “Take the corpses to another room,” you said softly. “I don’t want the children to see this.”

The vine extended, wrapping around the charred remains and dragging them away, leaving the room clear. You watched it go, feeling a pang of sorrow in your chest. “I’m sorry, Mother,” you whispered, “but someone has to purge the evil, right?”

The vine nodded as if in understanding and vanished into the shadows.

With the room now clear, you lowered the stone wall, allowing the children to see. They were still huddled together, wide-eyed, trembling, but there was a new light in their eyes—a glimmer of hope.

You kneeled, using a tiny flame to illuminate the room gently. “You’re safe now,” you said softly, your voice switching to a delicate tone.

The small, marble-eyed boy stepped forward. His hand slipped into yours, his grip surprisingly strong for his size. “You back came for us?” he whispered, his voice shaking but resolute.

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently, a warm smile breaking through your hardened expression. “Always.”

The children began to move toward you, timid at first, then with growing confidence, their small hands reaching out, seeking comfort. For now, at least, they were safe.

And you would make sure it stayed that way.

It was mostly your funding that kept the orphanages in Meteor City from crumbling. Your money was funneled into the broken, forgotten corners of the city where children like Chrollo and his friends sought refuge. You couldn’t always be there, but when you were, you made it count—your presence, your touch, your attention. That was the difference, wasn’t it? You had to put your wealth somewhere, after all—unlike Ging or Pariston, whose fortunes seemed to disappear into the wind, chasing their whims. For you, though, Meteor City had become an escape, a place to atone for the things you couldn’t control.

But it was more than duty, wasn’t it?

Chrollo had bonded to you in a way that you hadn’t expected. The other children admired you, but he worshiped you. His innocence clung to you, unsettling and infectious, dragging you into a world where, for brief moments, you almost believed you could be more than just a Hunter. That you could be someone who stayed.

It was one of those quiet, unguarded moments when you found yourself in Meteor City again, his small, frail body curled up against yours on his bed, his head tucked beneath your chin as if he could melt into your very being. His face pressed into your chest, and his small hands clung to your shirt as if you were his entire world.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, pleading. His wide gray eyes blinked up at you, still so full of that childlike adoration that made your chest tighten painfully. He didn’t understand—how could he? He was too young, too innocent.

You combed your fingers through his shaggy, jet-black hair, pretending it didn’t hurt to hear him ask. Pretending it didn’t make you feel like you were betraying something inside yourself. The glow from the window—the familiar golden light of dawn—signaled your impending departure. Mother Nature, it seemed, always knew when it was time to pull you away. You would have to leave again. You always left.

But not yet.

“Okay,” you whispered, the lie slipping from your lips like it always did. “I’ll stay.” You tucked his head back against your chest, hoping to drown his fears in the safety of your embrace. He felt so small compared to you, so fragile. You held him tighter, but no matter how tightly you cradled him, you knew it wouldn’t be enough. You couldn’t stay.

He sighed, his words soft and filled with frustration. “I wish you were just a normal girl. Not the Great Hunter. They always take you away from me.”

The weight of his words crushed your chest. You swallowed hard, burying the guilt and sorrow that always surfaced in these moments. He was just a boy, after all—a boy who didn’t know what it meant to live a life like yours. His love was simple, innocent, and untainted by the reality that you could never be what he wanted you to be.

He sighed again, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s not fair. You’re just a kid like me, but it’s like... you’re not. You’re stronger, taller... you have magic. You’re not afraid of anything.” His sleepy eyes blinked up at you, half-lidded, his gaze lingering on your face as if you were the only thing keeping him from falling asleep. “You’re so cool, Y/N.”

You forced a smile, your heart aching with every word. How could he say these things so easily, not knowing the storm they stirred within you? You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be feeling this pull toward him, this unbearable conflict between duty and something else—something darker, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I want to be strong like you,” he continued, his voice fading as sleep began to pull him under. “Then I’ll be the one to save you.”

You let out a chuckle, though it felt hollow. “Oh really? I can’t wait to see you try.” Your voice was soft and gentle, as if you could keep him safe from the weight of your feelings. But even as you spoke, your gaze lingered on his longer than it should have. The way his eyes—those innocent gray eyes—held yours made something inside you crack. You didn’t want to look away.

And yet, you had to.

As Chrollo yawned, his body slowly relaxing into the warmth of your embrace, your heart clenched in that familiar, bittersweet way. You knew what was coming next—the moment when he would fall asleep, and you’d have to leave. You always left. He knew it too, even if he didn’t say it. His eyes fought against the sleep pulling him under as if staying awake would keep you there just a little longer.

You should go. You needed to go. But instead, you held him close, brushing your thumb along his cheek, tracing the outline of his pale face. He murmured something so soft, so quiet, you almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart shattered.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t respond. How could you? What could you say to that? You weren’t supposed to feel this way. You weren’t supposed to let it hurt. And yet, his innocent words cut deeper than any wound you had ever known.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you cradled his face in your hands, letting the silence fill the space between you. Your mind and heart were at war, clashing violently as you tried to convince yourself that you felt nothing for this boy—nothing beyond duty, beyond the role you were meant to play.

But his words lingered. His love lingered. And it was killing you.

Only you could carry this burden. You had to ensure that you were the last shepherd, even if you were just a broken saint now.

And when he called, you would answer, no matter how much time had passed since that harrowing incident.

Isaac Netero’s familiar contact flashed onto your phone just as you returned to your quiet estate. The grand home, surrounded by vast lands, had become your sanctuary—where time seemed to stand still. Bamboo trees swayed in the wind, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite hear, and the rustle of leaves was like a lullaby to your broken spirit. This land, untouched and isolated, had become your refuge. Here, you could pretend the world had forgotten you, just as you had tried to ignore it.

You rarely needed to leave; everything you required, you grew with your own hands. The earth was rich and forgiving; the bamboo was tall and kind, your only companions, as well as the critters that inhabited the land, your only solace. They tried to aid in healing your scars, though they only made the loss more bearable. They connected you to reality, keeping you grounded and pulling you back from the edge whenever you felt yourself slipping away. They depended on you as much as you did on them. 

But even Mother Nature, with all her quiet persistence, couldn’t fill the gaping void left by your loss. She could only make the emptiness more bearable, less suffocating.

You had given in to the silence, but she hadn’t given up on you. Yet the moment Netero’s contact appeared, the corpse of your heart couldn’t help but beat with a retired purpose you knew you could no longer fulfill.

Still, your hands, worn and deft, quickly picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear.

“Y/N L/N. Think you have a chance to talk, my dear?”

His familiar, softened gruff voice was a reminder of how time had aged him, even though he had left you with so many unanswered questions. He was still your father in many ways.

But you were now Netero’s little fallen general.

“I’m here,” you replied, your voice a ghost of itself, as if unused to forming words meant for anyone else. “It's good to hear your voice. I would ask, How have you been?”

“I am well, Father,” you cut in, a weary undertone threading through your words. “Trying to keep the ground from swallowing me whole.”

A heavy silence fell between you, a shared history that neither of you wanted to address hanging thick in the air. Netero sighed, his voice dipping into a tone you had not heard in years—gentle, almost pleading. 

“Y/N…”

You remained silent, unyielding, waiting for him to continue.

“Listen to me, just this once,” he started, but you interrupted again, sharper this time, like a blade cutting through the fog.

“My nen is gone, Isaac," you said, each word deliberate and hard. "There’s nothing more to that story. There is no Master of the Hunters anymore.”

The silence that followed was colder, heavier. You could almost hear him wince at the use of his first name, a name you rarely called him. You knew it hurt him—that it stripped away the façade he liked to wear around you.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath, his voice laced with quiet desperation. “I'm not asking for her to listen to me,” he said carefully. “I'm asking for you, Y/N.”

Your gaze drifted to the bamboo outside, watching the stalks bend and sway in the wind. There was a part of you that wanted to hang up, to let the silence consume you once more, but another part—a faint, barely alive spark—kept you on the line.

“There is a young man,” Netero continued, “who is the spitting reincarnation of you."

Your chest tightened, the ache spreading like a slow poison through your veins. You swallowed, but it felt like shards of glass in your throat.

Netero’s voice softened, almost as if he were trying to soothe a frightened child. “I know I pushed you to retire early, and for that, I am sorry,” he confessed, his words heavy with regret. “I couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen if the wrong people found out you had lost your nen. But this boy—he needs someone who can show him the way. Someone who can give him a chance to choose a different path. A scent he can follow.”

He paused, the weight of his words settling into the air between you. “None of us can do that.”

A flicker of frustration sparked within you, threatening to crack the numbness you had wrapped around yourself like armor. You closed your eyes, the familiar heaviness of duty pressing against your chest. "Why... why do you always drag me back, Isaac?" you murmured, your voice almost devoid of emotion, a whisper lost in the wind.

“Because,” he replied softly, his voice steady but filled with quiet insistence, “you lost your nen, but you didn’t lose everything. I couldn’t save you from your fate... but you can save him before he makes the same mistake.”

For a moment, the world outside seemed to be still. The bamboo stopped swaying, the wind held its breath, and even the critters paused their quiet movements. Everything waited for you to decide whether you would let yourself be pulled back into the life you had tried so hard to leave behind.

A slow exhale escaped your lips, and your grip tightened around the phone. Maybe it wasn’t about saving yourself. Maybe it was about saving someone else—just one more time.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally whispered, knowing you were already halfway convinced.

Netero's sigh of relief was almost inaudible, but you felt it—a soft echo in your chest. "That's all I ask," he said gently. "Just think about it."

And with that, the call ended, leaving you standing alone in the quiet of your sanctuary, the wind picking up again, the bamboo swaying once more.

For the first time in a long time, you felt the stirrings of something beyond emptiness—a faint, fragile thing that might have been hope.

You let yourself fall back against the mat, feeling the familiar, frayed edges pressing into your back. Your phone lay loosely in your grip, screen dark, but its weight still anchored you to the moment. You stared blankly at the stone pond before you, the water still and silent under the overcast sky. But inside, that gnawing feeling had grown stronger, louder, and more insistent. The doubt and emptiness you had tried so hard to bury now surged to the surface like a wave, threatening to swallow you whole.

Then you saw her—the familiar, ethereal form rising from the pond—"Mother," your nen-made spirit, tilting her head at you, trying to read the emotions you kept so tightly locked away. Her shape shimmered and wavered, the liquid surface of her body catching the dim light, reflecting a thousand tiny, dancing fragments of your surroundings.

“You’re cruel...” you muttered, not bothering to lift your head. You didn’t need to see her to know she was there, watching you with a concern you could not bear. The water spirit hovered closer, her presence radiating a gentle insistence. A wave of water reached out, almost like a hand, and as she moved, droplets broke away and splattered onto your face. The cool water trickled down your skin, obliging you to finally look up and meet her gaze.

Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her form, the way her edges seemed to blur and tremble, told you everything. She was worried. She is always worried. Especially when you have attempted to end your suffering...

Seeing her like that... It only made the ache worse. It plagued you and gnawed at you like an open wound. You hated it. You hated feeling like this—so useless, so empty. Once, you had been so certain of your place in the world, so sure of your purpose. You had moved like a blade through the darkness, cutting down every evil in your path. You had saved countless lives and fought battles that others had deemed impossible. You mattered.

And now... now it felt like all of that was gone. Stripped away the moment your nen vanished. When it had left you, it had taken everything with it. Your sense of self, your purpose, your reason for being—it had all crumbled to dust, leaving nothing but a hollow shell behind.

"Quit it," you muttered, your voice low and tired. "I'm not in the mood."

But Mother didn’t listen. She never did. Instead, she moved closer, her form rippling like a soft wave, the water elongating until it seemed to reach across the space between you. With a sudden, playful motion, she curled around your feet, a cold grip tightening around your ankles. Before you could protest, she yanked you off the mat, dragging you across the ground.

“Really?” You groaned, exasperation flaring. You knew what she was doing. She was trying to wake you up, to stir something inside you. “Cut it out, Mother.”

She didn’t respond. The water around your ankles tightened, and with another tug, she lifted you upside down, your hair falling toward the ground. The blood rushed to your head, and you blinked, momentarily disoriented. For a moment, you dangled there like a rag doll over the pond, your feet held aloft by a watery tendril.

You found yourself staring directly into her face—or what passed for a face—her liquid eyes focused intently on you, unblinking, unwavering. She was demanding your attention, forcing you to look at her to confront whatever was buried deep inside. The silence stretched between you, filled only by the gentle slosh of water moving with every slight motion.

“I said quit it,” you repeated, a hint of irritation in your voice. But she didn’t budge. Her expression seemed almost stern. The water droplets that made up her body shivered slightly, as if she were speaking a language only you could understand.

Mother’s form shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her head tilted again, and for a second, she almost seemed to frown. The water that held you up began to twist and turn, slowly spinning you in the air as if examining you from every angle. Her touch was cold, but there was something else there—something gentle, almost comforting, beneath the chill. She wouldn’t let you hide from this. She wouldn’t let you sink back into the darkness you’d been wallowing in for so long.

“Quit it, Mother,” you muttered, voice strained, but there was no real fight in your tone. You were too exhausted to fight her, too tired to do much more than dangle there, your heart heavy and your purpose frayed.

Mother, ever persistent, moved the water around you in a swirl, as if shaping something from the depths of her core. You felt a coldness, a thin sheet of water sliding up to your face, and then you saw it—your reflection mirrored perfectly in the water.

But Mother didn’t stop there. Slowly, deliberately, she turned the reflection around.

Your eyes widened as you caught sight of your own back and your skin. The large, red Hunter symbol emblazoned between your shoulder blades, stark against your flesh, with the L/N family symbols woven underneath, bearing the phrase that had once given you strength:

"No child left behind." 

The words, so familiar, stared back at you with a cruel clarity. Your vow, your creed. The promise you had whispered to yourself a thousand times over, in the darkest nights, in the quiet moments of despair. The very words you had once tattooed onto your skin were like armor against the world.

Your breath caught in your throat. You tried to look away, but Mother twisted the mirror slightly, making sure you couldn’t escape it.

The reminder was as sharp as a blade, cutting through your excuses and your self-pity.

You were The Great Hunter, not because of the nen you wielded, but because of the promise you had made. Because of the innocent you had sworn to protect.

Mother watched, her watery eyes soft but firm, refusing to release you until the weight of that reflection settled back into your bones.

You sighed, a long, tired exhale, and for a moment, just a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the ache of that old purpose stirring within you.

She stared back, unyielding. Her watery surface rippled slightly, as if in response to your unspoken thoughts, and you felt a tear prick at the corner of your eye. A tear you quickly blink away. The silence stretched on, filled with everything you weren't saying—filled with all the things she knew you didn’t want to admit.

You sighed, feeling the fight leave you, your shoulders slumping. “Fine. Fine, you win,” you said quietly, feeling defeated, but in a way that almost felt like relief. She had always been there to stop you from corrupting yourself, always pushing you, always forcing you to face the things you wanted to ignore. And now, as much as you hated to admit it, you needed her to do it again.

You felt her release your ankles, and for a moment, you simply stood there, breathing, your heartbeat slowing, the cool air biting at your skin. She hovered closer, her watery hand reaching out as if to touch your face, but she hesitated, just a fraction of an inch away. You stared into her eyes, feeling something inside you break loose like a dam giving way.

You hated this... You hated feeling like you were nothing. Like you were just a vessel for the person you used to be.

Your Nen was gone, but you were still here. That gnawing, insatiable need to matter, to make a difference, was still there, burning quietly beneath the surface.

You took a breath, your fingers tightening around the phone still in your hand. "Alright," you whispered, almost to yourself. "Alright, I'll do it."

Mother seemed to shimmer, her form brightening slightly as if she were smiling. Her droplets swirled around you, a gentle, swirling dance of liquid light like she was encouraging you, cheering you on.

Your thumb moved over the phone screen, almost of its own accord, and you found Netero’s name again, hesitating for just a heartbeat before you pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice, and then his voice came through—calm but expectant as if he had known you would call back.

“Y/N?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, steeling yourself, and then spoke, your voice steady. “Where is he?”

You stepped off the airship, choosing to take a more grounded approach this time. It had been so long since you walked among society; today, you wanted to feel the earth beneath your feet and hear the noise of life all around you. Normally, you would have flown in on Khan, your Seraphrid—a creature resembling a winged horse, only larger and more formidable, a loyal companion since your youth. But today felt different.

As expected, Khan had already beaten you here. His sleek, black form stood tall among the trees, his six powerful legs moving with an elegance that defied his size. His head was turned in your direction, and the two long, string-like antennae that served as his natural bridle extended, sensing your presence. They wrapped around your arm, their touch gentle but firm, syncing with the veins on the underside of your wrist. The bond was immediate, an ancient connection that required no words.

With a familiar pull, you mounted him, his raised hoof serving as a stepping stool, an unspoken offer only the two of you understood. You clicked your tongue softly, a signal you’d always used, and he responded with a low, rumbling neigh that resonated through your bones.

Khan didn’t need instructions. He read your intentions through the link you shared, feeling the subtle shifts in your thoughts and emotions. He began to trot into the dense forest, guided by your thoughts alone, the rhythm of his steps matching the cadence of your heartbeat.

Netero had informed you that the young man, the one you were to meet, was training in these woods. He had given you the young man’s contact information, though he had been elusive with any real details. When you had pressed for more information, Netero had only chuckled, his words tinged with mystery: “You’ll see...”

Typical of him to leave you to uncover the truth on your own, to dig up the bone yourself, like always. As Khan weaved through the thick underbrush, you found yourself wondering about this boy. What was it about him that had made Netero reach out to you after all this time? What was so special that it warranted pulling you back into this world?

The dense forest began to thin, opening into a sun-dappled clearing. Khan slowed to a gentle canter, his antennae twitching as if sensing something ahead. You felt it too—a presence, quiet yet intense, like a heartbeat echoing through the trees.

This had to be the place. As you dismounted, Khan’s gaze remained fixed forward, his body tense and alert. You patted his side, reassuring him, and he relaxed slightly, though his eyes never wavered from whatever lay beyond the clearing.

You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar stir of curiosity and something deeper—something that felt like the whisper of purpose reigniting within you. Stepping forward, you moved into the clearing, ready to meet the young man Netero had sent you to find, ready to face whatever awaited you on the other side.

You dismounted slowly, your feet sinking into the damp earth as the coolness of the soil crept up through your boots, grounding you in the present moment. The clearing before you stretched wide, dappled sunlight breaking through the thick canopy above, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, a living, breathing presence around you. Khan stood tall beside you, his powerful form coiled with restrained energy, his antennae twitching in tune with the undercurrent of tension that rippled from you like a stone dropped in water.

Ahead, the low murmur of voices reached your ears, punctuated by the rhythmic clack of wood striking wood and the sharp rustle of leaves disturbed by quick, deliberate movements. You moved forward slowly, cautiously, each step bringing the sounds into sharper clarity. As you reached the edge of the clearing, you paused, taking in the scene before you.

Two figures moved with practiced grace, their forms entwined in a dance of combat, their bodies speaking a language of strength and discipline. One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, had a presence that radiated intensity and control—Izunavi, a hunter you had known from years ago. His sharp, unwavering gaze and the calm precision of his movements marked him as a hunter, one who had taught countless others the art of survival.

But it was the boy who drew your attention.

He was younger than you had imagined, his golden hair catching the sunlight like a halo, his eyes narrowed in concentration, a fierce determination burning in their depths. His posture was taut, muscles coiled and ready, every motion calculated and precise as he mirrored Izunavi’s steps, his gaze never faltering, never leaving his mentor for even a heartbeat. His body moved with the grace of a predator, but there was a tension there—a rawness, a desperation that was almost painful to watch.

So this was Kurapika.

Your breath caught in your throat. It was like staring into a ghost, a specter of who you had once been—a younger self, with that same consuming fire, that same drive, that same reckless need to prove something to a world that had never shown mercy. You recognized the look in his eyes immediately. You had seen it in your reflection, in the faces of those you had saved and those you had failed. The beast of burden lay heavy in his gaze, the weight of vengeance familiar darkness that seemed to clutch at his very soul.

He was still a child. Just as you had been—a child thrust into a world too cruel and too vast, carrying a burden too heavy for shoulders so young. You lingered in the shadows, your heart tightening in your chest, a sense of foreboding curling in your gut. Finally, you decided to step forward, your presence pressing through the air like a ripple in still water.

Izunavi’s movements stilled. He sensed you first, his eyes flickering toward you, his expression a mask of calm neutrality, though you saw the faint recognition behind his eyes. His stance eased, a subtle acknowledgment. Kurapika followed his gaze, turning to face you, and the intensity of his scrutiny hit you like a blow—a look so piercing it seemed to strip away layers, searching, demanding answers before he even spoke.

“Master,” Izunavi greeted, his tone respectful but carrying a hint of something harder beneath. "Netero told me you might be dropping by."

"Y/N," you corrected, voice soft but firm. Each syllable felt heavy in your mouth, burdened by the memories of your past. You inclined your head slightly, stepping fully into the clearing, moving with purpose, though a knot tightened in your stomach. "It’s been a while, Izunavi," you said, your voice sounding almost foreign to your ears. "I see you’ve taken on another pupil."

Izunavi nodded. "One with a special kind of determination," he replied, a note of pride softening his otherwise stern demeanor. He glanced at Kurapika, who stood like a coiled spring, ready to snap. "Kurapika, this is Y/N L/N—once known as Master Hunter, The Great Hunter, the Hound of the Hunters… too many names to count."

Kurapika’s eyes widened slightly at the sound of your name. Recognition flickered across his features—his expression shifting from curiosity to something deeper, something darker. You could almost see the thoughts racing behind his gaze, the questions forming, and the curiosity and anger mingling in a storm of emotion.

Netero had left you a note from the first examiner of the 287th Hunter Exam: "Kurapika Kurta said he wishes to become a Hunter to exact revenge on the Phantom Troupe and seek aid from the Master Hunter." The Phantom Troupe, a name you had only heard in passing, a whisper of a threat, a gang too small to matter back then. But now, seeing Kurapika’s face, you realize how much had changed and how much you had missed.

“Where were you that day?” Kurapika’s voice was low but steady, each word laced with a simmering rage that seemed barely contained. "I read stories about you... Master Hunter, the one who made crime vanish like mist before the sun. When my people were slaughtered, I didn’t fear, because I knew—you would come. You would hunt them down for me."

The pain in his voice was like a knife twisting in your chest. “I waited years for you! Held onto that hope until I had no choice but to become the hunter I needed.”

His voice cracked, but the fury within it did not waver. "You let them walk this earth after what they did to me... to my people." His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white, his breath ragged. And then you saw it—the flash of scarlet behind his gray contacts, the burning rage of his clan's curse, the anger and grief all mixed into one volatile storm.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard against it. The weight of his accusation bore down on you like a physical force. In your absence, the world had shifted and twisted, and you had been powerless to stop it. You had lost your Nen that day, the day you had lost everything.

That’s why you weren’t there.

The same beast of burden now latched onto him had once latched onto you. You had failed him, and his words cut deep into whatever was left of your fractured soul. If only you had known... If only you had hunted them when they were small, a mere whisper of a threat. If only…

But you hadn’t. And now you were facing the result of that failure.

Your silence hung heavy in the air. You felt the burn in your eyes, the sting in your throat, and the weight of every decision and every choice you had made that led to this moment. There was nothing you could say to erase the pain in his eyes—the sense of betrayal that seemed to radiate from him like heat.

Kurapika's expression hardened, his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing to slits. “I need justice,” he said, his voice colder now, like a blade drawn against a stone.

You drew a deep breath, fighting against the rising tide of emotion within you. “Justice is a fine line, Kurapika,” you replied quietly, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve. “And revenge can blur it until you don’t know which side you’re on.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a mixture of fury and something deeper—something fragile and almost broken. He turned away, shoulders tense, his footsteps heavy, as if carrying the weight of the world on his back. A part of you wanted to reach out, to stop him, to pull him back from the edge. But you knew better than to force it. He had to find his way, just as you had.

“Kurap-” Izunavi began, his voice edged with concern, but you raised a hand, silencing him. Your eyes remained on Kurapika’s retreating form, watching as he disappeared into the trees, swallowed by the shadows.

“Let him go,” you whispered, the words barely more than a breath. "I’ll talk to him later... once he’s cooled off."

Izunavi hesitated but finally nodded, trusting your judgment. You stared into the forest where Kurapika had vanished, the weight of his words still heavy on your heart. You knew that if he continued on this path, it would lead only to more pain and more loss. You weren’t sure you could bear to watch someone else descend into the same darkness that had swallowed you whole.

You had to try for his sake and yours.

“How far is he in his Nen?” you asked, breaking the stillness. Izunavi turned, his expression solemn.

“He's a determined, quick learner, but he’s already made those terrible vows for his Nen ability. It’s been five months since he started, and he’s planning something for September 1st.”

Next month, you thought. Not much time. “Is it related to the Troupe?”

“Positive.” Izunavi’s response was immediate; his voice edged with tension.

You sighed deeply, feeling the familiar heaviness in your chest. Another lost child, another soul standing at a precipice. The memory of the children from Meteor City flickered in your mind—those small, eager faces filled with both mischief and hope. Even now, you could remember the way they looked up to you, their eyes wide with wonder and something more—something like belief.

Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks—all those troublemakers who had once felt like yours in some way despite being the same age. You had often wondered where they were now, how life had treated them, and if they had stayed on the path you had hoped for them. Maybe, when all of this was over, you’d find them again. Just to see. Just to know.

Izunavi’s voice pulled you back. “His vows are monstrous, Y/N. I don’t know what he sacrificed, but his chains are still out of control. He’s powerful, but he can’t command them yet.”

“Chains?” You repeated, an eyebrow arching in surprise. “That’s his ability?”

Izunavi nodded gravely. “Yes. He wants to bind the spiders to hell with them.”

A small, amused laugh slipped past your lips, as that did sound like something he would say. Then your expression turned serious. “Izunavi… I’ve lost my Nen. If I decide to teach this boy, will you be my eyes?”

Izunavi blinked, momentarily stunned, but he quickly nodded, his gaze steady and filled with a new understanding. “I will,” he promised softly. “But... are you ready for this?”

You took a breath, the weight of your own words settling within you. “I wasn’t Netero’s best hunter just because of my Nen.”

You could still feel Nen, even Mother’s Nen whenever she came to you, like a whisper at the back of your mind, a gentle reminder of the power that once flowed through you like a river. You hadn’t lost your instincts—if anything, losing your Nen had sharpened them. It was like losing a sense and gaining another. You could feel things now, in ways that other Nen users couldn’t—like sensing the shift in the air before a storm.

Izunavi hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice a little softer, a little more unsure. “Y/N, you can do it? Teach him? With your Nen gone…?”

You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “I can.”

Izunavi seemed to consider your words, then nodded again, more firmly this time. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be your eyes.”

Your gaze drifted toward the direction where Kurapika had stormed off, your thoughts tangled with the past and the present. You knew the path he was on—you had been there yourself once. And you didn’t want Kurapika to stain his hands as you had stained yours, even if it was for what you believed was “good.”

If you could help him find another way—if you could keep his hands clean, you would. You were willing to stain yours all over again for the sake of keeping him from the blood that had already marked too many lives.

You had to operate in his shadow. Teaching Kurapika while also trying to beat him to the Phantom Troupe would be no easy task—especially if you had to do it behind his back. There was still so much you didn’t know. The years you spent disconnected from society left gaps in your knowledge. You couldn’t deny it, and the thought made you clench your fist. At least you could still rely on the physical strength of the L/N bloodline—but even that might not be enough. What if the Phantom Troupe’s Nen abilities were stronger than you anticipated? If they were all together, no matter how much experience you had, they could easily overwhelm you by sheer numbers.

What if you couldn’t protect Kurapika? The thought sent a shiver up your spine.

This was a mess just waiting to explode.

Izunavi watched you quietly, sensing the shift in your mood, the old scars being reopened, and the new purpose forming in your heart. You felt the stirrings of a familiar resolve—a quiet, burning fire that refused to go out.

“Let’s start now,” you said, meeting Izunavi’s gaze with a calm but determined look. “We have until September 1st. I won’t let him fall.”

You followed Kurapika as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Shadows lengthened, and the woods grew quieter, the sounds of the day's creatures giving way to the night’s. You had given him time��enough time, you hoped—for his anger to cool and for his heart to steady. But you knew that the embers of rage didn’t die so easily; they could smolder for a long, long time.

You found him near the lake, sitting against a tree with his knees pulled up, his blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight like threads of gold. He stared blankly ahead, lost in thought, his face a mask of quiet resolve. You watched him for a moment from a distance, letting your presence be felt without imposing yourself. You knew words wouldn’t be enough—not yet, not for a boy with a fresh wound.

Slowly, you made your way toward him, moving carefully and deliberately, leaving space for him to turn you away if he chose. He didn’t look at you, but he didn’t push you away either. That, in itself, was something. You took a seat beside him, leaving enough distance between the two of you to let him feel unpressured but close enough that your presence was felt. You let the silence stretch, understanding that sometimes it was the only thing that could truly speak.

After a while, you finally broke the silence, your voice soft, almost tentative. "You want to hunt the Troupe, right?"

Kurapika didn’t move at first, his eyes still fixed on the water. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but resolved. “I don’t have a choice.”

The words hung between you, heavy with finality. You have heard that before, spoken in different ways by different people. It was always the same. A choice made in desperation, when the soul felt trapped by the past, by the need to correct something that could never truly be fixed.

“You always have a choice,” you replied softly, your tone neither reprimanding nor coddling. It was simply a statement of fact.

Kurapika shifted, his hands tightening around his knees. “Not when it comes to this. Not when it comes to them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, studying the lines of tension etched across his young face. He was still so young—too young for this kind of rage to live so deeply inside him. But rage wasn’t something that cared for age, wisdom, or even reason. You knew that better than anyone.

“They took everything from me,” he continued, his voice harder now, laced with bitterness. “Everything. My family, my home, my future. I can’t just let that go!”

You exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh that was lost in the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. “Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting,” you said gently. “It doesn’t mean forgiving either. But this path you’re walking... It’s not just about revenge anymore. It’s about who you become at the end of it.”

Kurapika’s eyes flicked toward you then, sharp and wary like he was expecting a lecture he’d heard a thousand times before. But you weren’t here to preach.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you clarified, your gaze still on the water, the gentle waves reflecting the dying light. “I know that’s not an option for you. But you need to be careful, Kurapika. Rage has a way of consuming everything in its path. It’ll burn through you if you’re not careful. Until there’s nothing left of the person you used to be.”

He was silent for a moment, absorbing your words. The tension in his body hadn’t lessened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, perhaps. Or maybe it was understanding.

“I can control it,” he said, his voice quieter now, but the determination in it was unmistakable. “I have to.”

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his resolve. “Control is important. But you also need balance. Power without purpose is dangerous, even to yourself.”

Kurapika frowned, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Purpose? My purpose is to kill them.”

You turned to face him fully then, your eyes locking onto his. “And after that? What happens when they’re gone? What’s left for you?”

The question caught him off guard. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For a moment, the hard façade he had built around himself seemed to crack, and you saw the lost boy beneath. A boy who had lost everything and didn’t know how to live without his hatred to guide him.

“That’s why I’m here,” you continued, your voice softening. “I’ve walked this path before. I know where it leads. If you’re not careful, you’ll reach the end of it and find that nothing is waiting for you on the other side. Nothing but emptiness.”

Kurapika’s hands slowly unclenched, his fingers tracing the edge of his sleeves as if grounding himself in the present moment. He didn’t say anything, but you could see the conflict in his eyes.

You reached out then, gently placing your hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture of comfort. “I’m not saying this to stop you,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “But I am saying you need to think about what comes next. After the bloodshed. After the vengeance. What will you be left with?”

Kurapika lowered his head, the weight of your words sinking in. The silence stretched between you again, but this time it wasn’t filled with tension. It was a moment of quiet reflection.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely audible.

You gave a small nod, squeezing his shoulder lightly before pulling your hand back. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know yet. Just... don’t lose yourself in the process.”

For a long moment, Kurapika didn’t move, his gaze fixed on the ground, deep in thought. When he finally looked up, there was a new clarity in his eyes, though the fire still burned there, too. He wasn’t ready to let go of his vengeance, but at least now he was starting to see the danger in letting it consume him completely.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than before.

You nodded again, satisfied for now. It was a start. He would need time to fully understand what you meant, but at least the seed had been planted. And as much as you wanted to protect him from the pain of the path he was walking, you knew he had to walk it for himself. All you could do was guide him along the way.

As the last traces of daylight disappeared from the sky, you stood up, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Come on,” you said, offering him a hand. “Let’s head back before it gets too dark.”

Kurapika hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, pulling himself up to his feet. He stood beside you, his gaze lingering on the horizon for just a moment longer before he nodded, turning to follow you back toward the camp.

As you walked side by side, the soft sounds of the night surrounding you, you couldn’t help but glance at him, the weight of the future heavy between you both.

The journey was far from over...

© eyesofbong. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it. My work is only available on this platform and on AO3 under the name @eyesofbong

[0asisbliss]

TW: Canaibalism, dark themes, etc don’t like this type of shit don’t read it.🫶🏽

Pt.1

•Vampire!Phantom Troupe that only gets more vile and disgusting as you try to understand their ways of life.

•Vampire!Pakunoda that is an absolute sweetheart. She respects your privacy more that’s any of the troupe combined.

•Vampire!Machi that keeps her distance, but from afar she fantasies about how you taste. She talks to Chrollo about it and he can’t help, but relate to how she feels. Maybe one day they can make a plan that would lead to your glorious blood trickling out of your neck and maybe from in between your thighs from the many bite marks that would linger on your inner skin.

•You eventually eat of your own kind with the help of good ole peer pressure, and a little bit of motivation from Vampire!Chrollo.

•The taste was tangy, and almost kinda sweet? It made you feel like a different kind of person. Not in a necessarily bad way, but not in a good way either. You feel soft circular rubs on your lower back by Pakunoda. As you get done chewing your first bite.

•The whole Vampire!Troupe is proud of their pretty little human. They could just eat you up.

•“You did such a good job..” Chrollo would pat your head while reassuring you.

•“Awh? How’d it taste for your first round hm?” Nobunaga would tease.

*Vampire!Shalnark that has always been plotted on you since the beginning, and tries to wiggle his way into your heart by trying to understand how you feel about your whole “Situation”. Almost like he’s being sympathetic? No. Oh, honey when you finally break down to him a cry about how unsure and afraid you are he finally can see your deep and sweet emotions. As your tears trickle out your eyes Shalnark would wipe, and kiss your pretty wet cheeks. Licking and enjoying the salty taste when your not looking.

•His presence is soft and comforting until you mention how much you want to leave and be your own person again. When the words “I want to be alone.” Leaves your lips the air around you gets tense and out of a corner Feitan appears with a pale face, and there is no sight of that sickening smirk you knew all too well.

•With last bit of courage you had you got up and left. You couldn’t help but think to yourself maybe your thought process then saved your life?

•Vampire!Chrollo that goes through your house smelling and inhaling your scent. There’s just something about the way you smell that keeps him going. It just adds to your perfection in his eyes.

•Vampire!Phantom troupe that knows to never let you out of their sights as long as your alive.

[ichin-osuhxh]

jealous illumi is scary

[internet-rat]

Sitting on their lap - HXH adults

In these imagines you are in a relationship with these characters~ Any POV! SFW, but with underlying yandere themes for some characters. A long post so I put it under "keep reading"~ Characters: Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Hisoka, Illumi, Pariston, Kite, Nobunaga, Pakunoda, Machi and Silva

Kurapika:

-You entered the dimly lit room, your silhouette casting shadows under the feeble lamp that flickered sporadically. You paused for a moment, taking in the sight of Kurapika, disheveled and vulnerable, a rare sight for him. Your heart fluttered with a mixture of concern and affection. He had been working a lot lately, and it was clear he was overworked.

-Kurapika, sensing the presence of someone he cherished, lifted his head. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were now soft and somewhat unfocused. "y/n," he spoke softly, a smile creeping onto his lips as he recognized you. "Come here, please."

-Without waiting for a verbal response, he reached out with one arm, his hand beckoning you closer. As you approached, he grasped you wrist gently and pulled you towards him. Before you could protest, you found yourself guided onto his lap, enveloped by the warmth of his body. His arms secured around your waist, holding you close in a protective embrace.

-"Stay... just like this," Kurapika murmured into your hair. His voice was a tender whisper, a stark contrast to the usual commanding tone he employed during missions or discussions about the dangerous underworld you two navigated.

-You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your back, syncing intermittently with yours. You relaxed into his embrace, resting your head against his shoulder. His fingers traced small, absent-minded patterns on your sides, sending tingles through your spine.

-"You know, you're incredibly... beautiful," he continued as he buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His lips brushed lightly against you, planting soft kisses wherever he could reach. Your presence caused him to relax, and perhaps you could coax him to get enough sleep that night.

Leorio:

-Leorio glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes lighting up as he recognized you. With a roguish grin, he patted his thigh invitingly. "Hey, come over here!" he beckoned with a chuckle.

-As you approached, he swept his arm around your waist and effortlessly lifted you onto his lap, his strong hands steadying you. He leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable, while ensuring you were securely nestled against him.

-"There, much better," Leorio murmured into your ear, his voice low and teasing. "Now I can keep an eye on you and make sure you're not causing any trouble." His chuckle vibrated through his chest, providing a soothing rumble that was felt rather than heard.

-With you safely in his lap, Leorio's hands rested lightly on your sides, his fingers occasionally caressing your skin through the fabric of your clothing. His hands were warm and his presence was reassuring as well as protective, yet charged with an electric sense of connection that made the mundane environment of his office fade into the background.

Chrollo:

-Chrollo's eyes glimmer with a mischievous light as he pats his lap gently, signaling you to come over. "Come here," he says softly, his voice a blend of command and invitation.

-You move towards him, the air thick with his unspoken desires. As you settle onto his lap, Chrollo wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest. His touch is both possessive and protective, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart against your back.

-“Much better,” Chrollo murmurs into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes still holding a hint of that enigmatic smile. “Now, tell me about your day, even the smallest detail. I want to hear everything.”

-His fingers trace patterns on your side as, soothing yet distracting as he keeps you close, a physical reminder that you are his and his alone. He grips your waist a bit harder eventually, laughing softly when you whimper.

Hisoka: -Hisoka chuckled softly, the sound a mix of amusement and something darker. His voice, low and honey-sweet, coaxed you closer. "Come here," he murmured, his hands gesturing with a magician's flair. As you approached, he pulled you gently onto his lap, his strong arms encircling you to keep you close.

-"You're in the best seat in the house," Hisoka whispered into your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. His presence was overwhelming, and the close proximity sent your heart racing. "Relax, I've got you," he continued, his tone both reassuring and possessive.

-His eyes sparkled with mischief and desire as he looked at you. "Isn't this much better?" Hisoka asked, his voice a purr of contentment. "You close to me where I can make sure no one else can take you away." His words were playful yet held an edge, one that said he was not entirely joking.

-As he held you, you could feel the power of his nen, the strength that lay just beneath the surface. It was both thrilling and terrifying, knowing how easily he could overpower you, yet choosing instead to hold you gently. His grip was firm but not restrictive, a promise of protection rather than confinement.

-Hisoka's fingers drifted upwards, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, his touch deliberate and intimate. "You know, I could show you some magic tricks, but I find this moment quite magical already," he teased, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

-The way he looked at you, as if you were the most fascinating puzzle he’d ever encountered, made you feel both vulnerable and cherished. In Hisoka's arms, it was easy to forget the world outside, his attention and allure anchoring you entirely to the moment with him.

Illumi:

-Illumi's voice is low and controlled, nearly a whisper as he manipulates the situation to his advantage. "y/n, come here," he instructs gently, yet with an underlying firmness that suggests it’s not really a request.

-As you approach with cautious steps, his hand reaches out, gracefully but with undeniable strength, guiding you by the waist. With a fluid motion, he pulls you closer, maneuvering you to sit on his lap. His long fingers are cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his body through his clothes.

-He adjusts your position slightly, ensuring you are comfortable, yet firmly within his control. His breath is a soft brush against the shell of your ear, a sensation that makes you both uneasy and inexplicably drawn in. "Is this comfortable for you?" he questions, though it sounds more like a rhetorical query, his voice a melodious sound that's hard to resist.

-The room feels smaller with his presence enveloping you, his aura dark and compelling. Illumi's hands rest lightly on your sides, a reminder of his physical dominance without the need for force. His touch, although minimal, sends a clear message of possession—as if you're an extension of his own being, not just physically but in every way that matters. His love is twisted, but you know it runs deeper than any love in this world.

Pariston:

-"Ah, y/n, you look absolutely ravishing today," Pariston murmured, his voice a teasing lilt as he pulled you onto his lap with ease. His hands, warm and unsettlingly gentle, settled on your waist as he nestled you closer against him. The luxurious texture of his suit rubbed against your skin, a stark contrast to the devious glint in his eyes.

"Now, tell me, darling," he continued, his fingers gripping your hips lightly, sending shivers up your spine. "What's been occupying your beautiful mind today? Anything fun, or shall we create our own amusement right here?" The smirk playing on his lips was suggestive, and his gaze was locked onto yours, challenging and electric.

-The way he held you so confidently, as if claiming ownership, made your heart race. Pariston's presence was overwhelming, his charisma like a tangible force that drew you in despite your better judgment. You could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned in closer, his words a whisper now.

-"Or perhaps," he whispered, his lips almost brushing against your ear, sending a wave of anticipation through your body, "you’d like to tell me what you desire most right now? Don’t hold back... I’m all yours to command."

Kite:

-He walked over to you, his movements purposeful, as he reached out a hand and gently guided you towards him. With a subtle strength, he pulled you closer, easing you onto his lap. The stiffness of the previous moment melted away as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. Kite's hands rested lightly on your waist, steadying you.

-The proximity brought a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you could feel his steady breathing, calm yet slightly deepened by your closeness. His white hair brushed against your skin softly.

-"Better?" His voice was low, his usual sternness softened into a gentle murmur just for you, resonant in the quiet of the small room.

-His honey colored eyes held a spark, reflecting the dim light of the bedside lamp, and you realized that the tension wasn't just from the day's exertions, but also from an unspoken anticipation between the two of you. -"Mhm... Especially with your strong arms around me," you reply softly, slightly teasing him.

-Kite's lips quirked into a subtle, knowing smile, his hold on you tightening just enough to convey his soft possessiveness, a trait you found endearing. His chest rumbled with a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his body into yours.

-"Is that so?" His voice was a low hum, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck. "Maybe I should keep you here more often, then. Just to make sure you’re feeling comfortable."

Nobunaga:

-Nobu was back home from a mission with the spiders, and he needed you close. As you settled comfortably into Nobunaga's lap, his strong arms circled around your waist, pulling you close against his chest. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of him brought an immediate sense of calm and security. His fingers gently traced patterns on your back as he nuzzled into your hair, planting soft kisses on your neck.

-"Missed this," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. His hands shifted slightly, one moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, while the other stayed wrapped around you, holding you firmly yet gently. It was moments like these he cherished the most - the quiet intimacy shared away from the chaos of his usual life.

-With you in his arms, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your small, peaceful bubble. -You kiss his cheek softly. Feeling your lips against his cheek, Nobunaga’s heart swelled with affection. He turned his head slightly, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. His hand slid up from your back to cup the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek gently. The kiss deepened for a moment before he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a look of deep affection and a hint of playful mischief.

-"Home’s never felt good without you," he whispered, his voice husky. As he spoke, he shifted, adjusting you slightly on his lap, making you even more comfortable against him. He wanted to make sure every return home was like this—full of warmth and the quiet statement of being together, no matter what awaited outside.

-His fingers resumed their gentle exploration of your hair, untangling any knots with a patience and care that belied his usual rough exterior.

Pakunoda:

-Her hand rested casually on your waist, securing you close to her, while her other hand brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Pakunoda’s typically hard expression softened momentarily as she looked down at you, her sharp gaze softening.

-"You know, being this close... it feels right," she murmured, her voice low and almost tender, a stark contrast to the rough exterior she presented to the world. Her posture relaxed, enveloping you in the strong yet protective aura that was uniquely hers.

-As you nestled into her, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest, the bustling noise of the city around you seemed to fade away, replaced by an intimate silence that hung between you two, filled only by shared breaths and the occasional, subtle shift as you both settled more comfortably into each other's presence.

-Leaning back into Pakunoda's embrace, your body relaxes completely, sinking into the comforting solidity of her lap. Her arms close around you slightly tighter, a silent acknowledgment of your trust and comfort in her presence. The cold, distant demeanor Pakunoda usually exhibits to the outside world melts away when she's with you, replaced by a protective and serene calm.

-You feel her breath against the top of your head, her chest gently rising and falling in a rhythm that lulls you into a deeper state of tranquility.

-Pakunoda, usually so reserved with her words, lets out a soft sigh, a sound of contentment that vibrates through her and into you. "This quiet... it's rare," she murmurs, her voice a soothing rumble that matches the slow strokes of her hand on your arm. "With you, it's different. Peaceful."

Machi:

-As Machi pulls you closer into her embrace, her hands gently guide you onto her lap. Her firm hold around your waist assures a protective closeness, warmth radiating from her body. You feel her breath softly brushing against the back of your neck, a whisper of intimacy in the air.

-"Settle in, love," she murmurs, her voice a low hum of affection and command. The bustling sounds of Yorknew City seem to fade away, overshadowed by the palpable connection between you two. With her fingers lightly tracing patterns along your side, Machi keeps you anchored to her, a silent reminder of her presence and affection.

-You turn so you straddle her lap to be closer to her. As you turn to face her, straddling her lap, Machi's piercing gaze meets yours, an intense expression of admiration and desire flickering across her features. Her strong hands slide up to cradle your back, pulling you flush against her chest. The close proximity heightens the electric charge between you two, and you can feel the steady rhythm of her heart against your own.

-“Much better,” she whispers, her lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing tease. Her fingers weave into your hair, tugging gently to angle your head as she deepens the kiss, exploring the warmth of your mouth with a slow, deliberate passion. The world seems to narrow down to this intimate space where only you and Machi exist, wrapped in each other’s presence.

Silva:

-Silva wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close into his firm embrace. His deep blue eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and delight as he positions you comfortably onto his lap. His voice, a soothing rumble, breaks the quiet of the room.

-"Seems like you've chosen quite the spot to rest, haven't you?" His other hand gently brushes a strand of hair from your face. "I hope you're finding my lap as welcoming as the rest of the mansion." His smirk is teasing, yet there's a warm undercurrent to his words, suggesting a deep, affectionate bond between you two.

-Silva's breath hitches slightly as you nuzzle into his neck, the warmth of your body pressed against his sending a thrill through him. He tightens his grip around your waist, anchoring you firmly against him. His voice, now a husky whisper, brushes warmly against your ear.

-"You always know how to make my heart race, don't you?" He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest to yours. His hand slides up your back, fingers threading through your hair, massaging gently at the base of your scalp. "I could hold you like this forever," Silva confesses, the stoic assassin facade melting away to reveal a rare glimpse of his deeper, more vulnerable emotions towards you.

[hhighkey]

Taken, part 2 // Uvogin, one shot - part of hhighkey's phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: stockholm syndrome, love??, implied past kidnapping, implied references to depression, suicidal thoughts, unnamed chronic illness, medical inaccuracies, marriage, rough sex, size kink, lots of come im so sorry, manipulation, female reader Note: about 17k words, ao3 link: xxx, link to part 1

The union could never be legal, technically Uvogin didn’t exist, but that didn’t matter. Not to you when he confidently proposed with the biggest grin months after getting you back from Bates, going on a ramble about the thought of you being someone else’s wife terrified him. To him, it furthered his ownership of you, and was another way to show his utmost commitment and love. Not that kidnapping you four years ago was a total display of it or anything… That it took someone else trying to marry you for him to think of it. 

Never sure what to categorize as the happiest day of your life, for now that day took the cake. How even on one knee he was taller than you, a gorgeous ring in hand (you could thank Chrollo for that as you found out later). The idea of being someone’s wife when you were little had been like a dream, you’d always gawk at wedding stores and the dresses on display. It was more of a fantasy to look the prettiest surrounded by even prettier decor, not necessarily about the concept of ‘in life and death.’ After so long with Uvogin you understood that marriage wasn’t about a gorgeous wedding but about the vows and status it brought. Because your relationship with Uvogin was the epitome of together until death. And with each day getting harder to get out of bed, blood painting your tissues after coughing, you realize that death is on the horizon.

However, for the last few weeks Uvogin was doing his best to avoid a certain group. The term ‘bachelorette party’ became a forbidden term to me murmured around him, it’d be a night where he’d have no control. However, three people weren’t letting him off easy as you found amusement in him trapped.

“Fuck no.” Uvogin grunted, eyes tensely looking over the three female Troupe members, “She doesn't leave my sight when I’m not workin’.” 

“It’s a thing Uvo.” Machi said, “You’re not supposed to see the bride a few days leading up to the wedding, especially the night before and day of.”

“Okay so you can have her tomorrow then.” He waves them off, going to grab your arm, but Machi cuts him off stepping in front of you.

“No, you can survive two days without her.” 

“Whaddya wanna do babe?” He focused on you, pretending not to hear the pink haired woman. 

Your mouth falls open as you glance between Uvo and Machi. Your chest flutters with discomfort being in the middle of a strange face-off, where you particularly didn’t want to see Uvogin perturbed with you if you agreed with the girls. “Um..” 

“The four of us are going to do something tonight.” Pakunoda steps in, her voice level like she were talking to an overly large toddler not getting its way. 

“Like what?” 

“None of your business.” She stared at the larger man down. 

“Well Y/N’s my business so, anything she does is my business.” 

“It’s bad enough we can’t force Phinks and Feitan to let us have their girls, but let the poor bride-to-be have a bachelorette party where nothing can possibly happen. Then she’ll be your wife in two days and you can dictate the rest of her life, how about that?” Machi huffs, annoyed, “Go bother Nobu if you get bored but we’re taking her.”

“Yeah, no you ain’t.” He went to push past her, but she shot a hand up pressing on his chest. 

“What do you want to do, Y/N?” Machi asked. 

“I- Uvo I would really like to spend time with them.” With a slowly ticking clock on your life due to the state of your health, you think you should say what you want. For a second you remember, like a little flicker at the back of your brain, times spent with friends shopping, movies, gossiping about boys. Makes your heart yearn for that type of connection again. Clarity seemed to leak into the depth of your mind the sicker you got. 

He frowned at you and time seemed to stop until he nodded, “Alright.”

“That was easy, thought we’d have to steal her in the middle of the night.” Shizuku said absentmindedly, which earned her a few glares. 

Uvo fretted over you before he let you go, fingers prodding along your delicate skin as if you were the most precious treasure, as if you’d break from one touch alone. 

“Behave.” His words come across as a warning but you hear the depth to it, the worry rather than a threat. 

“I always do.” You tease, moving to hug his thick, muscular torso. A small part of you wants him to scoop you up and lock you away with him, your heart beginning to panic at the idea of separating from him. Yet your mind told you to stay strong no matter how badly you wanted to melt right into him. 

Uvogin made a few more tiny threats towards the girls before he finally left, telling you he’d be at the Base. For a moment your chest twisted in pain knowing he’d be hours away, not working. You could survive being without him due to his job, but not knowing he was free.

So you stood in your townhome with Machi, Paku and Shizuku watching you. Sure, you considered them your friends at this point, slowly considered most members of the Troupe your friends. Yet you knew their loyalty to you was really loyalty to Uvogin, the help protecting you, keeping you healthy, keeping you happy- was all for him. While you’re sure they care for you as a person enough to make small talk, you’re Uvogin’s property through and through. But this moment as you debated what to do, made you want to feel hopeful. The three of them didn’t need to do this. It made no sense for them to fight with Uvo for days to let them host something. 

How Machi’s fingers dug into your bicep as you involuntarily took steps forward, 

“Don’t.”

You didn’t know how to be without him. Your body was slowly dying, and not the dramatic bullshit of aging. So perhaps it was quickly dying. The ever exhausting fog you lived in where all you had was Uvogin to care for you. His warmth disappearing from the room settled a chill and awareness. 

Machi has her normal blank expression, but she seems pleased when you nod, “So, what are we doing tonight?”

The looks exchanged made you wary. 

The devilish upturn of Machi’s lips makes you wonder if you should go run back to Uvo. But the part of you, stuck oh so deep down, that couldn’t rebel for years was overjoyed as it wretched its way out. 

“We are going out.”

“Out..?”

“You know, what normal girls do, dress up and get drunk, flirt with men.” 

You cringe at the last part, discomfort swirling in your gut. Normality. Normal girls. You play the words over and over, hearing her words echo as a harsh reminder. But also self reflection as these three weren’t normal either. Farther from it and yourself. Perhaps you nodded, agreeing to the location they wanted, because you’d missed out on so much. Though the sour taste in your mouth lingers as you all get ready as if it were any other night- that everyone in the Troupe was all aware of the fact Uvo kidnapped you. No one told him that he should reconsider, that it’d be selfish. But did you even want that? Would you have wanted Machi or Nobu to tell him to let you go? Because the thought makes your stomach flutter with wrenching nerves you don’t want to think about, as society’s version of normal wasn’t yours. And like that, you snapped back to the image staring back at you in the mirror, the girl chronically ill yet irrevocably in love with someone they shouldn’t be.

You look- strange. Yet you’re taken aback by the beautiful girl Paku had turned you into, makeup breathing life back into your sullen state. A flash of somebody else, a younger version of you reflected, prior to knowing what you’d become and with who. It’s nostalgic almost, thinking about the minimal times you’d gone to a bar with a coworker or an old school friend, how you debated over what to wear or how to do your hair. With Uvo it was simple- he didn’t care what was on your body, or if you had makeup, he controlled everything you could and couldn’t do and it simplified everything. 

The dress fit you like a glove, pushing cleavage up and you wanted to retreat into yourself.

The night sky preys down on you. Buildings feeling like they were closing in, the openness of the town, the fresh air felt like a jail. The fact you were in the open with options was suffocating, but you walked with your arm linked with Paku’s trying to save face. Trying to push down your insecurities and thoughts of Uvo getting angry with you. He’d never have let you wear this, never had let Machi push a shot of vodka down your throat prior to leaving. Thrilling. Yet terrifying. The best way to sum up what coursed through your veins while wanting to turn around at the same time. 

The lack of alcohol the last five or so years was clear, the shot made your cheeks tinged pink and a dazed smile on your lips. You tried hard now to sway as you walked and luckily the cool breeze against you the last few minutes helped to bring you back down. The taste of it was exhilarating- dancing on the edge of inebriation and the thoughts that came with it!

“I- Can’t.” You take a step back, “Too many people- I can’t.”

“Hey- Y/N.” 

You stare at the ground as you stumble back to some steps, letting the cold pavement press against you. Stuck inside yourself as your world spun you began to ramble, 

“I- Only people I’ve been around are the Troupe. No more than 12, never more. A-And Bates kept people away from me. No- No, too many. Feels suffocating, like I can’t breathe.” You look at them with terror written across your face, “Why are you all doing this for me? Because you know I’ll die? Or because you feel bad for me? Y-You know he kidnapped me, I’m not allowed to use phones or see my old friends, my family thinks I’m dead. Yet…” 

Machi crouches down to get eye level with you, “You deserve a night of freedom and fun you should have had. You’ve given all of us more kindness than we deserve all these years. And Uvo has never been happier in all the time we’ve known him. We want to repay it back before you die as his wife.” 

“We’ll take any backlash that comes of this, with your state Uvo wouldn’t dare to upset you.” Paku said, correctly inferring the nagging at the back of your mind that this would make him furious.

“You could get away with a lot more than you realize because he’s terrified of you dying, remember that.” Machi’s intensity bores into you in a way that makes you sit straight up. Either from the fact her nen could kill you in an instant or she was trying to instill you with a backbone. 

“How much longer do you have, Y/N?” Shizuku asked. 

“I… Don’t know.” You push your fingers against your temple, trying to stifle the weight of everything on your shoulders. The sting of the vodka still in the back of your throat, your eyes focused on the heels you wore. 

“A year at most, probably eight months.” Machi replied.

“Why- Why would Uvo be scared to upset me? Hasn’t stopped him before.” You flinch at the reminder of your impending doom, no matter how much you were coming to terms with it; It was Uvogin’s karma.

“With my non-professional medical guess, who's been there since the start, is that there’s so much medicine can do if you’re giving up. Uvo doesn’t want you to want to die, selfishly wants you to hang on for as long as possible even if you’re in pain.”

Oh. It felt like you hit a wall. A harsh wave of soberness and the realization of where you were, “I wondered, why it took him so long to think of marrying me? Did Bates love me more to go through those lengths? What did I do to deserve all this?”

No one spoke. It would have been hypocritical for them to, they were just as big of monsters as Uvo. That they didn’t need you looking at the situation from an outsider’s viewpoint anymore, a discomfort settled within their guts. 

“Can we- still go to that bar?” You ask, breaking the silence you caused. 

As much as you spilled to them unprompted, knowing your words wouldn’t spur them emotionally to do anything, you were always smart not to let anyone in on the doubt you felt. On the anxiousness since Bates, on the second guessing if your emotions for Uvo were real. You knew everyone would take it wrong, that you’d been indoctrinated or rebelling. 

Because hadn’t Uvo washed away every insecurity that made you doubt your love? All this hushed proclamations whilst his cock was buried in your guts. The small touches and the fact you no longer had to lift a finger. His ever permanent seeming presence. Right? Ringing struck up in your ears forcing you to shake it off, Right. Right. No question about it as you stared at the ring on your left finger. You were excited to be his wife, to further cement your love. You had to be. 

“Of course,” Paku said, “Let’s go. You can hold onto us as much as you need.” 

Everything was a blur after they helped you up from the step, urging you to forget about your woes. The line wasn’t a long wait before you’re stepping into what felt like an alternate dimension. Thick sweat-infused-air with the smell of alcohol, bodies shoved like sardines, and strobe lights beamed around. 

Music. Music! Oh it made you sway in utter glee as the bass reverberated in the depth of your soul. You felt like a fish out of water with your fingers intertwined with Paku’s, looking around the room like an awe struck child seeing the world for the first time. 

A glass was shoved in your hand and you indulged, then again, and again. Uncaring for the strength of the liquor or the overly sweet syrups, the taste of freedom was absolutely addicting. How you’d missed alcohol in all this time, you’d beg Uvo to let you drink again. Soon your vision blurred along with your doubts. 

It was tiring always worrying. Always wondering. Being on edge. Doubting. It made you suffocate and being able to let go was pure relief. Giggle and laugh with the three Troupe members like any other friend group would. Even if they weren’t as into or as relaxed as you, watching your every move, you didn’t mind. They were doing this for you.

Any man that approached you was shooed off with a threatening glance from Machi. You were encapsulated in a perfect bubble as you bounced around sucking down another tequila infused drink. Not caring that you didn’t know any of the lyrics because this was music you’d never heard before. When was the last time you’d listened to music? You stop as you warm, bodies pressing to you, and you realize you don’t know. 

You tug your dress further down your thighs, attempting to cover more. You falter in your steps and arms are on your waist in an instant. 

“Ready?” Shizuku stares through her glasses at you.

You nod. Was it late? How long had you been inside the club dancing to your heart's content as your mind went to mush. 

The air outside was frigid compared to your body’s temperature, to the red flush along your skin and sweat beading at your hairline. Hair a frizzy mess. Mascara smeared under your eyes with the glitter from atop your lids. You hadn’t smiled so big in so long, to the point your cheeks ached as you tried to skip along the paved sidewalks, giggling like a madwoman. Pakunoda never let you get far though, listened and responded to your entertainingly slurred words and statements. And how you slowly began to wear down, to slow in your steps as you wrapped an arm around her. Contentment resonated from you. 

They’re on edge first, you not noticing the sudden change in atmosphere. That the aura around you all dropped, anger seething through it. Three forms stood past the turn. One particularly large. 

Uvogin. Flanked by Nobu and Phinks, who looked more annoyed than anything. Yet it wasn’t them that brought concern, because Uvo looked halfway ready to destroy the local buildings. 

“The fuck are you all doin’? Thinking you can take my soon to be wife out to get drunk, take ‘er somewhere I don’t fucking know.” He’s rigid, a murderous aura surrounding him. Muscles flexing as his jaw locked. Oh Uvogin was a big and terrifying man yet you looked at him like the dark, bustling city was naught. 

“Uvo!” You squeal, delighted, your core flush with warmth as you don’t notice his anger. Your thoughts are screaming for him, chanting his name like a prayer because there he is! He’s suddenly in your sights, though you aren’t sure why there’s two of him, but all you want is to squeeze him, take him for yourself. The way his thighs squeezed against the fabric of his shorts you narrowed in on, thinking about running your hands against them, prodding into the skin. Massaging and kissing and moving to his thick co- your core goes warm, such liquid goodness that you can’t fathom being away from him any longer, your daydream making you go numb.

You push off Paku and skip over to Uvo, practically throwing yourself into him. Which he caught you with ease even without prior notice. You nuzzled into his warmth, feeling his calloused fingers run along your arms. You don’t feel how he tugged down your dress as it’d ridden up, or as he checked for any marks. And you certainly didn’t feel the genuine panic, terror past jealousy of you drunk around others. The fear of you out without him. Finding someone else more interesting upon realizing how much he’d taken from you. Living a life that didn’t include him. And if you wanted said life back over what you two built on the cracked foundations only help up on your (possibly) messed up sense of reality. 

“Hi baby.” Uvo said in a fairly choked back tone; his attempt to seem relaxed towards you while he was really seething. In his mind he had to blame his fellow Spiders, that this was on them, not you. 

“Want you.” You whined softly, eyes filled with heated want that bore into him. Your palms flat on his chest feeling his erratic heart beat like it was your lifeline, “Missed you.”

You don’t remember much, not as you swayed in his grasp, vision splitting your environment from doubles to triples. The hazed joy settled into a comfortable exhaustion as your eyelids drooped, uncaring for the voices that argued around you. It doesn’t matter that it’s getting heated, not to you, this night has been better than the stars above. Topped off with Uvogin at the end. As your head falls limp, knees buckling, your last drunken thought is on the wedding. 

Feeling your body beginning to go limp as you mewled into him, Uvo picks you up cradling you into him. Your touch grounded him. Your excitement to see him might have been what stopped a possible massacre powered by his anger and fists alone. You’d missed him terribly even when you had the whole world at your fingers, and he loved that. Filled him with a sense of pride. 

“We’re going.” Uvogin nodded to Nobu and Phinks.

“Good fucking thing I didn’t let my girl come. Will have to tell Feitan ‘bout this.” Phinks grumbled under his breath.

“We’re heading back to Base.” Nobunaga tells the girls, “Come if you want, will be a tight squeeze.”

The group began their departure, silence amongst a still bustling town. Tension thick enough to cut with a knife, trepidation building within a few of the Spiders. Strange looks from some, especially at the large man carrying a girl who looked like she had a rough night out. 

Soon buildings died out. Lights limited. Roads turning to dirt, fences showcasing expansive private overgrown property. Countryside came into view with a car waiting, as Phinks pulled out the keys. For a second they all share uncomfortable glances unsure how they’ll all fit, but one person in particular had a dark cloud above her.  

“Uvogin.” Machi said dangerously low, fists clenched and Shizuku ready to grab her if needed. “How long have you had her now, four years, or is it five? She’s not going anywhere she’s in love with you, as much as she’s able. She doesn’t know how to think without you telling her what to think about, nonetheless run away anywhere. Where would she go? She relies on you for everything and more, you are her life. And she’s happy about it I guess, babbled about you all night. She doesn’t have long and you know it, don’t let her go it’ll do more harm than good but… let her say goodbyes. Proper ones to those you took her from.”  

“No.” He responded without pause, “You’ve gone soft, Machi I’m surprised. I ain’t letting her out my sight from here on out, I’ll let Chrollo know I need a fucking sabbatical or something. You’ll be lucky if I let any of you see her again.” 

“She’d be upset about that.”

“Whatever.” 

“You say that now.” She knew he was bluffing, and of course he was. 

He squeezed your sleeping frame before settling into the passenger seat of the car, keeping you tight to him. He stared at your angelic form feeling his heart squeeze, “Don’t do something like this again. And one day maybe you might understand a sliver of what I feel for her and why I do what I do.”

Uvogin couldn’t fathom missing another one of your breaths. Not a single one. Because from here on out he’d claim them all as his. 

-

This was how it was meant to be- your wedding day- you realize as you stare at your reflection. You remember the attempted one with Bates felt like walking to your doom, while this time around with Uvo? It felt like you were walking through a floralled field surrounded by a thick lavender odor, heading towards the rest of your life. It felt right. 

A white gown flows along your emaciated body that has a faint golden sheen from the joy swirling within you. Excitement coursed in your veins as you finished final touches for your hair and makeup, relying on Paku heavily for assistance. 

It’s Fall, the orange and red leaves falling delicately around you as you carefully walk along a gravel path with grass laying flat from overuse. The cooling air filled with a cinnamon spice odor so acutely that of the lengthening nights as Hallow’s Eve was around the corner. Feeling wrapped in the comfort of your favorite season, a molten liquid spread as you inched closer and closer to the altar. Arm looped in Paku’s, a smile lives etched on your face as tears prick at your eyes, swirling sentient settling within. After much convincing, Uvogin agreed to an outdoor wedding at sunset, not being able to say no to you. The Trope had done an immaculate job at setting up a cozy venue

It was a whirlwind. Walking down the aisle to Uvogin. How he looked at you with misty eyes and utter happiness, looking devilishly handsome in a tailored suit, something you never imagined seeing him in. He towered over you with a powerful aura that made you feel safe. Nothing else existed when in Uvogin’s orbit. How his hands held yours, staring so intently like you were the entire world. That you were all that existed on this plane, that all he wanted was to whisk you away as soon as vows were shared. 

You were always his, but to Uvogin this tied you to him forever. Emotionally linked your cute self to him in a way that meant everything to you, while to him the title of marriage did little to change his feelings. It made your heart swell and your face beam with love, making this worth it in his eyes.  

And it was worth it to see you walking down the aisle to him. His pupils dilated, shoulders dropping, mouth quirked up at the sight of you in a white gown. An angel. His heart soared and he stood a tad straighter beaming with pride. 

Closer. Closer to him. Time seemed to slow as you both became so consciously aware of the other, of how your hearts raced in rhythm combining. Circulating souls, winding and meshing, flowing together like pieces of twine twisting and twisting. Paku handed you off to him and he’s lit with a burning need as your smaller hands slot into his perfectly. A necessity so pure, like a starving man who’d kill for his survival, burn the world to the ground to have you. 

Nothing else mattered besides you; not Chrollo who began the ceremony, not the eyes and pleasant words of the other Spiders and their partners (who stared hopeful at their lovers). 

Only your tears of merriment as you peered up at him like he was your savior, mattered. He was your salvation. The sweet words that left your lips as you cried through your vows with breathy laughs, built him up more and more. Uvogin’s vows were strong, filled with his promises of protection and love, his thinly-veiled apologies for the past and the excitement to continue as husband and wife. 

A faint cinnamon smell wafted on the breeze, heavy earthy-spice amongst the falling leaves. The sun is setting beyond the horizon. Dimming violet skies flourished as the ceremony ended- you in Uvogin’s arms as vows sealed with a kiss. A symphony of harmonious noises blurred out your surroundings, a deafening buzzing that should have made your stomach churn and your instincts blare red. Instead it’s elation that spurred your tunnel vision as you kiss your husband passionately uncaring for anything else. 

Maybe you were too far gone from the clarity you’d had, from the questions of Uvo’s real feelings you once picked apart. All of it drowned and stamped out. Glowing delight crammed into every vein and bone, to your most miniscule of nerves. Plugged up so thick with the taste of Uvogin that you’re almost drunk off his scent alone, off the way his eyes raked along your body. The thought of him looking and touching anywhere else made you want to die. Like he was the oxygen you breathed. A fresh intake of air seeping with amber and intoxicating caramel, the taste of a maple tree’s smoky bark going up your nostrils to the tip of your head. 

Dizzied by his musk. Dizzies as your mind buzzed like a million honey bees flew about in crazed circles. Unable to wipe the grin off your face as Uvogin picks you up Bridal style to carry you off. Marital bliss is already consuming the two of you whole, Uvogin’s aura a violent red as his chest swelled with possession. 

Every inch of Uvogin; from his flexing muscles to his grueling height where his toes tingle with want. He was wounded so tight. Chords pulling and pulling, fraying as they did, and any moment they’d snap. He’d snap. Flustering begins to control him and you can see it in his eyes. The fire. The lust. All of it.

Uvogin wastes no time getting to his corridor of the Base, since everyone wanted the loud man in his own area to reprieve them of his usual antics. 

And he wasted no time placing you on the bed with a thump, your giggles music to his ears. Pure joy shimmered across your features and it had been far too long since he’d seen it. Uvo relishes in it as he helps you out of the wedding gown (tries to help while you beg for him not to rip it). Because for the rest of the night he has plans that will keep you a mess on his cock as you cry and scream for more, drunk off overstimulation, none of your innocent happiness to be found. Only your reliance on him. Your need for him. 

You’re on your back faster than you can blink, Uvogin pulling you to the edge of the bed. On his knees between your thighs you watch him with insatiable lust clouding your eyes, your senses, sending little volts of electricity up your spine as his rough fingers traced the skin of your inner thighs. How he kneaded and stoked, your mewls and constant jerking making a devious look fall over him. 

“I ain’t gonna be nice, gonna fuck my pretty little wife til’ she can’t take it. Then I’m gonna keep going.” His breaths fans along your clothed cunt, your liquids beginning to soak through the white fabric. 

You nod, feeling the numb tingle of anticipation wash over your body. Your mind as if it hung out to dry, lust dulling your senses. 

The sudden onslaught of his tongue has you seeing stars. He knows exactly how to tease your entrance to make you squirm and gasp, knows how you like how he oscillates his long tongue inside you to pull out an orgasm. Stroking your inner thighs so playfully and feather like, 

“Uvo- pl-please!” You beg, fingers yanking at his scalp. You need him like you need oxygen to breathe. Your senses are so dull, the air smelling thick of your juices and sex, a tangy musk that is sweet because it’s because of your love for him that you feel this way.

“Need somethin’?” The vibrations of his deep voice sent shivers up your spine, your mind spinning in lust as with a flick of his tongue, the way it then drags along your folds brings you back to your high. 

Sobbing for him as you snap, squirt dribbles and he laps it up, sucking your engorged clit to make you shake. To make you tremble and jerk and try to push his face away as slurping noises fill the room. 

“Ne-ed you!” You sob, “In me!” Your head is spinning and all you can think about is having his cock stretching you out. 

He relinquishes with a final kiss above your clit, pulling to strip himself of his clothes.

Uvogin is more than aware of the size difference between you two, you’re so small beneath him, just so cute laying in awe at his naked hulking body as his hand goes to stroke his godly length. You’re so tiny, so breakable and while he is always as careful as a man like him can muster, right now all he wants to do fragment you into a thousand little pieces. 

“You’re so damn tiny, wife.” Blood rushes to his cock, hardening it even more as the tip leaks precum swollen and red. The way his hand engulfs parts of your leg as he gropes makes him burn and he knows he can’t hold back much longer. 

“You want this fat cock in your tight cunt? You wanna be nice and full, all stretched out? Gonna take all I give you?” 

“God yes, Uvo.” You keen, “Please, fill me.”

“Who do ya belong to, wife?” His eyes darken as he lines his cockhead up to your dripping entrance. 

You squirm and moan lewdly, unable to focus as pleasure grinds at your core, “Y-You Uvo! My husband, I’m yours- your wife- yours.” You babble as his swollen tip continues to tease you. 

“Cunt is mine.” He thrusts in fully, a silent scream escapes you as your eyes roll back. Uvogin’s cock pulses and he groans in pleasure, muscled legs trembling as his nerves are shot full of an addictive high from your body, “Tits are mine.” He engulfs one of your breasts in his hand, thumb rubbing over a pebbled nipple. “Whole damn body is mine. Your fucking mind is mine, I own you.” His thrusts turn erratic, slapping skin reverberates in the room as your little pussy takes his ginormous size and violent force behind each fuck against your cervix.

Already a mess, you’re easy to move, easy to morph as Uvo adjusts you on the bed. Angle was just right, your ankles held down at your head and his hips just so to drive into you so deep you won’t be able to walk. Your orgasm blossoms as squirt juts from your hole as Uvogin’s long cock spreads you too wide and too deep, the pain electric and overwhelming but your hips shake. 

“You’re so pretty baby, so damn good takin’ me like this.” He grunts, throwing his head back as he continues to fuck into you, his balls slapping against your ass. “I love ya, love how you squeeze me. You want my cum this bad? I’ll give it to you, get you nice and full from it. Take me deeper now, you can do it, yeah?” 

His vulgar words are disoriented in your ears but they make you feel obscene, make you smile sordidly with tears in your eyes, and nod like your life depended on it. 

You’re lost in his wicked aura. Your wedding night lived up to all you would have hoped for it, as your dress lay discarded and you were folded in different positions as your husband drove the both of you to pleasured highs again and again. Heavy spurts of come coated your insides, too much so that it trickled out and painted your thighs, painted the sheets. Again and again he plugged you with his cock and filled you with heavy grunts, letting you feel the hot come shooting out from him for far too long, far too much that you could almost taste it in your throat. He hit every sensitive spot you loved that made you feel mushy and braindead, just a reliant little thing on him. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You could barely hold your head up or moan how much you loved him and his cock. Your eyelids grew heavier, while your body shook from the continued rapture. 

Uvogin kissed you so lovingly, so much so that it hid his true malicious intents you couldn’t understand in your fucked out state, “I got you baby, gonna let me use you?”

You nod. Smile like a drunken idiot, and go lax. You feel every thrust, every pulse and curve of his cock, each slap against your ass, each kiss, lick, grope along every open inch of skin. You knew this was heaven. Heaven as he pushed you to your chest, hiking back your ass and slamming in. Your poor cunt quivered, gaping wide from his girth as his come leaked out, lower tummy inflated and Uvogin watched you with a glint in his eyes, and he couldn’t keep his emotions in. He let out a monstrous roar, one the brute was known for, and he let you take every inch of him uncaring if you broke or said it was too much. But you took it. You always did. Even if your gummy walls tried to force him out, tried to tighten up too much but he’d always push past the defenses to claim you and feel your clamping cunt as it came, as it squirted. And god as he’d toy with your aching clit he’d see you spasm even in your passed out state.

His fingers gripped your hips, they’d leave bruises he’d stare at proudly tomorrow. And he knows more marks will follow, he needs to mark you, to show anyone who you belonged to on all open parts of your skin. Your eyelids were finally permanently closed at this point, once done-up hair a mess, makeup all smeared. Tiny mewls all that escaped your parted lips. Yet your pussy still squeezed him like a vice, milking him for all it was worth begging for more, “Still so fucking needy for me aren’t ya? Don’t worry I’ll fill you all night till I got nothing left, you know your husband will always take care of you.”

-

Uvogin could never help himself when it came to you from the second he laid eyes upon you. His feelings are too intense and overpowering of his superb fortitude, years of destruction and rigidness in his work. And it took awhile the first few months before he took you because he adored who you were, and did not want you to become a shallow version of yourself. But he always knew it was his job to protect you as your friend turned captor, turned partner, turned husband. 

What type of man was he if he couldn’t keep his love safe? He’d spent years diligently watching over you, even going as far as to check your body for harm. Make sure you ate well, slept enough, and had a good amount of things to keep you mentally entertained. He knew you like the back of his hand and it was why he struggled from the start when you couldn’t get healthy. But with his mind set on it, it would happen, he was sure. 

Uvogin wasn’t always suited for tough conversations when it came to you, overall happy with everything. Never complaining about not being able to contact anyone outside the Troupe or go outside without him or an escort. You stopped going stir crazy after accepting your feelings for home were true all those years ago, loving his clingy touches and loud humor. 

But as the weeks went on after the wedding, your state got worse. And so did his helplessness, the gut feeling that he was still not doing enough. His optimism wore on himself as much as it did you. 

Everything about you makes his heart race at such a speed he wonders if one day you’ll give him a heart attack. Simply based on his overly obsessive actions and thoughts, his every waking being is all for you. 

“Uvo, stop it.” You swat at his large hand that held a protein bar, “I’ll just throw it up. Don’t wanna.”

So maybe it was all coming to head after almost two years. Exasperation with the situation that turned into taking it out on the other. More or less you wanted a break from the pity, the treating you like a little porcelain doll by your lover. 

“You gotta eat, babe. Can’t survive off that baby food shit.” He sighed referencing the nasty apple sauces, ground up food into weird shakes that made him gag. 

“Better than nothing.” You murmur, staring aimlessly at the blankets you sat under.

Uvogin ran a hand through his hair, feeling disgruntled by your frail form not even looking at him. He moved towards the bathroom, dropping the bar in the trash. He wants to scoop you up, pin your chest to the mattress to fuck into you to hear you chant his name. 

He doesn’t mean to snap at you. But god he can’t fucking stand to watch what you’re doing, because he’s not stupid. He missed his girl, her smiles and snark, how she’d be equally all over him as he was towards her. His best friend and lover wrapped up in one. While he wasn’t cruel, swore if you were in pain then so was he, but he was tired of this push and pull. 

“You’re giving up.” His words come out harsher than he intended, but the bitterness bubbling up his throat spurred them on.

“Stop.” 

You wipe at your eyes because of the sudden tear that fell down your cheek. His words feel like a painful stab to the gut. 

“I can’t- I won’t watch you die, Y/N. Not even thinking about what this is doing to me. I can’t be without you.”

Anger filled you but you couldn’t breathe, dry heaving through your sudden sobs that hit you like an avalanche, “Doing to you? I’m the one dying, Uvogin. I’m the one in pain every day and every breath.”

He flinched at the usage of his full name. 

“Let me die, please it hurts so bad and I have fought. Fought for you, for us but I’m so tired. You need to let me go so you can move on with your life rather than be stuck as my caretaker.” Desperation laces your words, all you want is for him to hold you in his arms. Not for him to stand by the door with a faraway look. The sorrow on his features and the regret swirling in his eyes. You know he’s hurting, but this is destroying you.

“Is that what you think?” His fists clench, muscles going taut as they strain against his shirt, “That you’re a burden? That I’m better off without you? I take care of you because I love you, not out of some stupid fucking caretaker duty I’m obligated to.” 

“But aren’t you? You are the one who kidnapped me, you have to care for me or throw me to the curb if I’m not fulfilling my duties.” You spat, and you don’t regret the words as they slap him in the face making it twist in a dark glare. 

His brows pinched together, lips purse as he exhaled jadedly. The fierce mocking chuckle spewing out made your blood run cold, “We going there?”

“Maybe we should. We never have properly, always joking about it because it worked out for us. I downplayed what you did because you always respected me, kept me as me. Didn’t force me to fuck you, or be with you. And we always had amazing rapport even before that.” The aggravation of talking to him like he was a non-receptive 8ft plus wall made you want to rip your hair out. Not a flash of any emotions on his face leaving you to reel and second guess. 

“What’s the point of this babe? Gonna start throwin’ shit at me again? Begging me to let you go?”

“No!” You sit up straight, rolling your shoulders back feeling frustration and the sudden want to rip your hair out, “I love you. Only way I’ll ever want to leave is if you no longer feel the same, or if you hurt me. But jesus Uvogin, put yourself in my shoes even with your limited fucking ability to empathise. Because sometimes I wonder if you love me the way I love you, or if I have fucking stockholm syndrome!”

“What do you want me to say?” 

“The truth, how you really feel.” You press, almost as if you wanted him to snap. You’re tired of half truths, of him dumbing everything down like you’re a child.

“The truth?” His eyes narrowed as his chest thumped, felt like his insides were turning inside out in absolute agony, “Truth is I feel fuckin’ useless and you no longer care about living. You are leaving me, you’ll be dead. And now I’m hearin’ you think your feelings are fake? What a fucking time this is.”

“How am I supposed to not die, Uvogin? Tell me. I sleep all day, take handfuls of pills, IV for fluids. My body is rejecting it all and you don’t care that I’m in pain, you care more about having me around so you can get off.”

An explosion of red aura escapes him with a growl, his fist coming down on the closest piece of furniture. You gasp, heavy sobs returning as you recoil in ear. Realizing what he’d done, he tried to approach you, but you cried for him to stay away. Fear. Dizzied confusion written on you and Uvogin doesn’t know how to take it away. Not even the first few months after taking you, had you looked at him like that. And it made him want to die. 

“Y/N, M’sorry. Fuck. You’re my life, I love you. You aren’t some fucktoy to me, you’re the reason I breathe. And I’m so scared of the day I gotta live without you. It’s no excuse, but please. Would never hurt you, you’ve gotta know that right?”

You stare at him. Blank. Fingers gripping the blankets you used as a shield until your  knuckles turned white. Wet streaks falling down your face, off your jaw staining the fabric. 

“By begging me to stay alive… You are hurting me.” You whisper, but he can hear. 

“Fine,” He growls needing to leave your presence before he lashed out more, “Then you got my fucking permission to die, wife. I’m done.” 

He spares you no other glance as the door slammed behind him. You’re left trying to pick up the pieces, pick apart his words. Unable to hold back the flood of sorrow that seeped out, hysterical, airy cries as you heave. Pathetically quivering as you hugged yourself, slowly rocking back and forth atop the bed as it sets in. You think he means he’s done, he doesn’t want you, this is him washing his hands of you and your fate. 

You call for him, his name falling onto nothing, sniveling and blubbering like a mess. The air suffocates you, thick as it wrung you out. Dull skin prickling like a thousand needles inserting within you. Searing pain behind your brows and temples as it felt like your head was being crushed as your eyes went puffy and red.

Stuck in limbo staring at the wall. For months you’d been living under pitying glances, careful words, and locked up in an ivory tower of protection against the world. Even yourself. 

Your actions not your own as you move like a woman possessed, a ghost haunting the halls of its resting place. How you dressed for the colder weather outside the Base, discarding the disaster of splintered wood Uvogin left during his outburst. You moved with whimsical intent and glazed over eyes. In a trance as you padded along the eerily quiet halls then the main room, not a Spider in sight. Not that they could have stopped you, or even noticed as Uvogin’s screaming caused them to scatter. Pity as they had no choice but to listen as his deep voice echoed through every cranny spewing hurtful words.

Nobody stopped you as you opened the door to the outside. As you stand in the doorway contemplating stepping out, you realize it’s the first time you’ve been able to go somewhere without permission, with your own autonomy. With that you leave, crossing an invisible boundary that leaves you feeling lighter.

You walk, slow, stumbling as your lungs struggle to adapt. 

Unable to get far, you collapse unto a patch of grass, overlooking an expansive patch of trees overgrown with weeds and vines. 

On replay in your mind is the fight you’d just had with Uvogin, how his words sliced you deep. How he struggled with your pain, and how you spent too much time keeping your thoughts from him to ease his own. A selfish feat. But they were fearful, self deprecating thoughts that plagued you day in and out. The heaviness of accepting an eventual death that could be at any turn. The realization of your complacency and how the doubt Bates’s kidnapping of you set a spiraling turn of events. That you doubted your love feeling anxiety over his touch or telling him those three words- and how it made you selfish. More than ever. That you now saw Uvogin’s actions in the evil, manipulative light they were, and you did not care. Not anymore. His charismatic, strong nature over you was irrevocably his property, his wife, and this would have happened kidnapping or not. 

The cold, you feel yourself becoming one with it as your shallow breaths exhale fog around you. Your body feels numb as your pulse slows at an alarming pace. It’s comforting, serenely quiet before a high pitched noise sounds in your ears. The scenery is beautiful, you admire it as your eyelids droop, this was a good place to pass. To rest. The sky so blue, the sun high and bright, alluding to a perfect Summer day yet you shiver from the almost freezing temperature. 

You hear footsteps approaching and you hope it’s Uvo, that he’d get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, that he’d make it up to you. But it’s not and you almost laugh, maybe he really did mean he was done with you. 

“Chrollo?” You jolted back to reality at the sight of the Phantom Troupe leader, at first having thought the figure was imaginary. In all these years you never conversed much, Uvogin having said the passing of his wife permanently altered him. 

“Y/N, dear.” His tone is gentle. He approaches and you see the heavy coat and blanket he carries.

“Don’t.” You stammer, “I’ve made my choice, I ask you to respect it. Just make sure he’s okay once I die. I used to think he deserved it after everything, after taking me but- god,” You let out an insane sounding laugh, “I don’t want to leave him, but I can’t live like this. Coughing up my lungs, blood, always tired, unable to eat. My body is giving out on me.”

“When I lost her, I thought my life was ending.” Chrollo laments, closing in on you to wrap you in the warm fabric. He takes a seat beside you, “It did. I’m forever stuck, unable to move on. And truly? I am okay with it. But there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for any members of the Troupe so they never have to experience the magnitude of losing your wife.”

“I understand but-”

“I want you to tell me what it is you truly want. If you could have one wish.”

You respond instantly, not needing to think of your answer, “To be healthy and live the rest of my life with Uvo.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I believe you.” Chrollo sighed, “I wanted to respect your wishes but I had a feeling you were accepting the path of a martyr as all roads appeared exhausted. I found someone, a skilled doctor from another continent who has treated and helped patients with symptoms similar to or more extreme than yours. He likes the challenges of strange chronic illnesses.”

You straighten, an invisible weight feeling like it’d been lifted off of you. Your mind is short circuiting however, as if you’d been unplugged. You’d had to come to terms with your impending doom after a multitude of medical avenues were taken at no expense. But Chrollo’s outreach must have been intense, it must have taken ages to discover if you’re only now hearing of it. 

Hope rushed into you. A re-ignited fire burning bright within, making the idea of living another day plausible. Something you wanted. 

“Does Uvo know? Where is he? He left me I… Thought he was done. That he didn’t want me-”

“I sent Feitan to find him, I wanted to talk to you first. The doctor is already on his way. I did not want to waste time if you agreed. And if you truly wanted to rest for eternity, I’d have sent him back.”

“How.. But the Troupe- please don’t kill him after.”

“No, it would be a waste. He is miniscule as a threat to us, I actually thought him to be dead all these years. I knew him briefly in Meteor City, he would come to treat the children.”

“Ah.” Knowing the doctor wouldn’t die for helping you released you from any possible qualms you’d have had, “Chrollo?”

“Yes?”

“I appreciate it, and I apologize for making you come out here.”

“Do not. Uvogin should be the one apologizing to you.” Chrollo stands with ease, then helps you stand, “I wouldn’t let him off easy, while we all deal with things in our own way, he’d have always regret walking out on you if it were the final time. We should never take time with our loved ones for granted. I am only glad I could find a possible solution for you.”

You’re swelling with appreciation, genuine happiness that you don’t think you’ve felt since the wedding. And before that? Prior to your initial pneumonia diagnosis almost 18 months ago. And definitely prior to Bates. With the burst of joy through your veins you want to throw your arms around Chrollo and thank him profusely some more, but that’s not something you’re physically capable of. Your legs can hardly hold you upwards as you two walk, him having to keep a firm grasp on your waist and arm in case. Slowly the path turned into the walkway for the Troupe’s base, the walking time taking practically double what it should have. But that’s okay, you’re too filled with ambition dreaming about having a normal functioning body once more even if Uvogin still wants to be done with you. 

Your teeth chatter, tips of your extremities a bright red from the chill. Unable to stop shaking even from the sudden heat inside. 

Chrollo helped you into your bed in Uvogin’s room, telling you he’ll have Machi swing by. The warmth of the room and the mound of blankets covering you, it’s suddenly easier to sleep than ever. For now you let yourself dream about good health, about treatments working, but still worry scraped the back of your mind when it came to your husband. Burning deep in your gut at the thought of your vows meaning nothing. As you begin to drift off–  

You hear a deep voice yelling laced with panic. Uvogin sounded ready to rage, to throw furniture across the room, you could picture the anger radiating from him through his tone. Because his words are hazy to you, and even as the door bursts open you’re unable to look. The feeling of large hands combing along your cool skin was the last thing you felt before falling into darkness. 

Uvogin shudders in relief as he watches your chest rise then fall. Your wind stained cheeks still pink as his thumb dragged along your face. He’s coming down from an intense adrenaline fueled high, his heart hammering in his chest ready to burst. How angry he’d been as Nobunaga followed hot on his trail attempting to put reason into him. And how Feitan appeared out of thin air with a look mixed with pity and contempt, saying Chrollo needed him for an emergency. How his stomach dropped filled with nauseating butterflies as his mind jumped to you, that him storming out left you vulnerable. That you fucking died somehow, as he’d let you think he was done. His selfishness towards his lack of control wracked him with guilt as he raced back to the Base. 

But instead Chrollo awaited him with a stern lecture even as he tried to push back yelling for you, body screaming for you to be against him. Yet Chrollo sat there amused over his idea to let Uvogin’s thoughts run rampant to a worse case scenario, sickeningly wanting him to feel the sorrow, the agony of losing you to get it through his thick head this wasn’t all about him. Then the leader informed him of the doctor on his way, giving one final effort to help you. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Uvogin repeated as he pressed wet kisses to your skin, inhaling your scent like it was his own personal drug. His addiction to your frame in his as the bed creaked when he joined you under the blankets. 

How tiny you are compared to his monstrous form, precious and fragile as you subconsciously nuzzled into his warmth even in a half conscious slumber. He can feel all the cold that rattled you melt from your body due to his own heat, how you no longer shuddered as you fell further limp with relaxation. Little mewls escaping your lips. The jerk reaction of your leg twitching as you murmured something under your breath. Not quite actual words but always made his lips quirk. 

“Uvo?” You exhale with a smacking of your lips, a whimper as you attempt to shift. Arms and legs trembling as you stretch out waking from your quick douse of sleep, “You’re back?” 

Your delicate lashes flutter as you languidly look about. 

“Do… You still want me?” 

Oh his heart shattered from your frail words as you rubbed at your eyes, eyes glittering from the wetness in your lash line. Your bottom lip trembling that all Uvogin can do to show you his devotion is press a chaste kiss to you. 

“Always.” He grunted before deepening his lips against yours with force, slipping his tongue inside your mouth to taste and to claim. 

You gripped his bicep, head spinning from the suddenness of his stealing your breath. Now suffocating in his warmth, his scent, and his touch as you lose yourself in the pleasure running down your spine. Emotions all over. Anger at him for leaving, for yelling. Relief he’d come back. His hands roam underneath your clothes to lay ownership over your body, a heavy groan vibrating into you as he tugged you closer. If it were even possible. He’d tie you to him if he could, keep you glued to him, be inside you to be molded as one. 

As you become more aware, your feelings of betrayal towards him coming back, you push on his pectorals. And when he doesn’t budge you push again harder, words laced with venom shooting from your mouth. 

“I want you off me.”

He looked like a kicked puppy, surprised as he pulled away. Someone so big with his bulking muscles looked like he wanted to shrivel up before he regained his senses, then attempted to entrap you in his arms.

“You don’t get to crawl into bed and kiss me after what you said. Would you have come back? Would you be this happy if Chrollo didn’t tell you about the doctor?”

“Baby.” He murmured miffed as you squirmed from his grasp, “I-”

“He found me outside, I was so cold and lost, going to just die there.” Uvogin’s face twists to something unreadable and devastating, but you continue, “He asked me what I wanted. If I would accept help from one last doctor, it would be okay if I said no. Uvo I’ve had to come to terms with all of this on my own, you’ve always been so convinced it would be okay. But don’t you understand we were out of options? We have limited time, all I wanted was to rest, to enjoy whatever I had left with you. Yet you storm off. I know it’s been taxing for you but I have tried so hard to stay alive.”

You don’t want to cry, you don’t want him to see you suffer more. You get up from the bed, seeing how his arm twinged as he held himself back from grabbing you, Uvogin was smart enough to understand times you needed autonomy to stick it in your head that you had a semblance of control.

“And I am going to do whatever it is this doctor wants to try, but if it doesn’t work you need to accept that I’m letting fate have its turn with me.” 

It felt like an eternity as you and Uvogin stared into the depths of the others eyes, watching every movement the large man could make. The apprehension in his body language as the gears turned in his head put you on edge. For he was stubborn. 

“Alright.”

Alright. He says it like it’s a defeat but offers a faint smile to follow it up. You sigh from the comfort it brought you, physically allowing your shoulders to relax from where you stood. The bed served as a thick barrier between you physically, but the expanse there mentally was like a cavern. 

“Uvo.” You sniffled, lips quivering as the necessity for him brought you to tears. But you couldn’t, wouldn’t as you remembered his words from earlier.

“C’mere baby.” 

“No.” 

He says nothing though you have ideas what he’s debating doing. 

“I can’t. Not after what you said. How willing you were to tell me to die, then walk away.”

From words spoken out of quick anger, Uvogin watched as the relationship cultivated between you two seemingly came crashing down. A thread wound so tight, pulling and pulling for months, finally snapped. And he knows he needs to patch it back up as quickly as possible, get you back into his orbit. 

He groans into his hands, pushing against his cheeks running his fingers against his skin down to his jaw, eyes moist. An incredulous look flashed across his face as his mouth opened then closed, then opened back up to speak but with no words to follow. 

A standstill, you wipe at your tears, “I think we need some time apart.”

“No. Absolutely not, you’re out your fuckin’ mind if you think I’m leaving your side.” From confusion to immediate discontent, his chest overflowing with annoyance at your stupidity thinking he’d give you space.

“But you did. Earlier.”

Uvogin had nothing to retort back for once as his brows pinched together. His thick fingers flexed as he focused on containing his growing temper he felt towards himself, the divide he put between you two. 

“And I fucked up. Got no excuse for my behavior besides I was pissed, I know I’m big and breaking shit around you isn’t the answer. Walking away won’t fix it but I had to leave before I did anything I’d regret. Couldn’t scare you further or risk hurting you. The thought of me being the reason you’re ever hurt makes me fucking ill, I’d rather break every bone in my body. I love you, and I’ll prove it to you every single day over and over if I gotta. But I’m not giving you space.”

It’s the most genuine apology that’s ever left his lips, has you warm inside and brain flitting to accept immediately. You see and hear the regret, it pulls at your heart making your stomach flutter with butterflies. He knew exactly what you needed to hear but this time around he said nothing he didn’t mean in an attempt to sway you back into his arms. He was a truthful, passionate man overall, only straying when absolutely necessary in keeping you happy with him. And he sees you perk up. Knows he’s got you.

“I’ll hold you to that.” It’s hard to hide the twinkle in your eyes, the involuntary upturn of your lips, or your reddened face because of him. How you know you’re giving in to him too easily and that you should make him work for it more. Get on his knees and beg, maybe do a few things while down there too. 

Because against better judgment you’re across the room and straddling the expanse of his large hips. Your lips desperately pressing into his uncaring for the way your lungs throbbed within you, not until you’re pulling back. A coughing fit comes over you, heavy and mucus filled, from the depths of you making you shudder. Uvogin holds you, petting your back as you hack against his chest. Burning. You felt so hot it was almost unbearable as the intake of any air was torturous for your frail body. 

He sighed into your hair, listening to your erratic pulse, “My sweetest girl. I got you. No matter what happens with this doctor, I’m here.” 

And you believe him, whether or not out of necessity. It doesn’t really matter anymore. 

You fall into a strange cycle with him the following days. Uvogin becomes your ever present, ever hovering gigantic shadow that moved precisely when you did. His intense gaze feels like a permanent fixture upon you, watching, assessing every move you made. From the food you consumed so that it was up to his standards of health, to taking over shaving your legs, to not letting a single person touch you besides himself… It brings you back to the first year you spent with him before the relationship blossomed, to how robotically he controlled your life. 

Pieces of you wanted to brush him off, punish him as exasperation boiled within you. Unable to push his hands away without a glare. His gigantic form pressing against you constantly.

But this was different, you had to believe so. He was scared to lose you. Bad enough you wandered outside with him knowing because he stormed off, almost leaving you to freeze to death. So day in and day out you're met with an onslaught of kisses and tender touches along with his over-protective barrage. In your soul you feel it though, the light at the end of the tunnel slowly approaching. Just what that light was- you weren’t certain.

-

Two weeks later on the dot does Chrollo arrive with the mysterious doctor in tow. You’re nervous sitting atop the table in the small infirmary in the Troupe’s basement. You remember the medicinal scent from the one other time you’d been down here and it makes you squirm, palms sweating as you fiddle with Uvogin’s fingers. . 

Uvogin had pulled a chair to be beside you, a large hand engulfing one of your own as the doctor carefully looked you over, taking vitals, and a few vials of blood. You’d pouted at the sight of the needles, begging Uvo for some help which only brought a wicked grin to his face. You knew he liked how hard you’d squeezed him as blood was drawn, making a face at the nauseous feeling it brought. He’s trying so hard to keep your spirits up and you daresay it’s working?

Things had been strange, more tense in some ways, Uvogin seemingly walking on eggshells around you. Scared to upset you. Overly doting if that were even possible for the clingy man who would choose to spend time with you over Troupe business. (Which took you far too long to realize how serious he was the first time he told you that.)

“I’m going to run these tests I need real quick. I need to be able to count out a few possibilities to confirm what I think our path is. My nen will speed up the process so sit tight.” The doctor, who was a short man with an overgrown beard, said offering a kind smile. 

“Thank you.” You take a sharp breath in and glance at Uvo. The door clicked close, leaving the two of you to sit in heavy silence.

You watched him slowly kiss your knuckles one at a time, expelling the unruly feelings of obsessive jealousy coursing through him. His overly possessive nature regardless of your health, hated the doctor’s hands on you. Was grounding himself as his lips dragged along your skin, “Feeling okay?” 

“Nervous. Hated describing everything I’ve dealt with, though I know he needed to hear it.” You sighed. The insurmountable effort to get out of bed each day was wearing you down, at this point you’re surprised you’re able to at all. Mornings begin with faint cries and whimpers as Uvo helps you up. Then you stay placated in the same spots, droning away at whatever is shoved in front of you. And night time was when your bones could relax and mind could have its reprieve from the constant synapses shooting aching pain through you. 

You didn’t speak much as butterflies spurred from Uvogin’s invasive touching, continuing to claim parts of you as his own as you wait. But there was a twisting past the sparks he made you feel, one dreadful and sickening. A wandering mind down alleyways of deceit telling yourself there’d be no magical cure or good news; that you’d spend your remaining time wasting away in suffering. 

Eventually the door creaked open and the doctor strode in, head stuck in a clipboard, “Alright.”

You’re sitting straight, electricity shooting through your spine. Uvo tenses next to you, his grip on your thigh tightening ever so slightly.

The diagnosis was in the air of what you’d expected. Pneumonia from the time before Bates kidnapped you never properly healed. It expanded into more. Your respiratory tract was giving up and the rest  of your body did too. It wouldn’t be long before you’d begin coughing up blood per the doctor, the statement shaking you to your core.

“I see antibiotics have not done much, which are always the first line of defense. Which I believe a more aggressive track should be taken.” 

“And what is that?” Uvogin asked in a low voice, fringing on threatening. 

“I would like to put you into a medical nen induced coma.” 

“No.” 

“Uvo.” You grab his wrist as a silent plea, “He’d know better than us on treatment.” 

Your insistence has Uvogin backing down, as in his body physically relaxing. His muscles twitch in the arm you grasp. 

“I have seen and treated 3 cases of hemoptysis or pneumonia successfully this way. And have studied cases of past colleagues too. We are in the unique situation where my nen would be the driving factor rather than what a normal hospital would use. Your body would be given complete rest, no need to fight each day to walk or eat, or even rest. It would give your white blood cells the ability to fight this intense infection. This has turned a lung infection into something chronic, this is the only route that makes sense to take.”

“How long will the coma be for?” You race to articulate your swarming thoughts. They’re all jumbled due to your lack of medical understanding and the fear seeping in. But between you and Uvo, you need to be calm so he is. Because when it came to you, any sense went out the window. 

“Two weeks. But I would be able to tell from test results if you’d need longer. Then afterwards for 3 months there’d be a strict regimen of pills.”

You take a deep breath in, “And if this doesn’t work?”

The doctor gives you a solemn look, which you understand, “Then we’d want to make you comfortable.” 

It was a scary thought. Going to sleep and not waking up one day. One that you’d rather prefer than a malicious death, like torture at the hands of Feitan. While you feel confidence in this doctor, in that you’d wake up from the nen coma, it’s what comes after that makes bile churn in your gut. 

The doctor wants to put you into the coma pronto. 

Uvogin wants to argue, you see the fire in his eyes, the desperation on his face. The silent anger vibrates in him as he wants to scoop you, his wife, up and leave. His silent pent up feelings of failing you coming to the surface. 

He holds your hand as your body goes limp. The pink glow of the doctor’s nen cocooning you inside, not allowing Uvogin to touch you. He hates it. 

The days go painfully slow. 

An hour felt like twenty. 

The first week felt like a year. 

Uvogin was more combative than normal, aggressive with his words when he used them. Abnormally quiet but everyone knew to steer clear of him. Leaving your side was an absolute no-go for the large man, needing to watch every delicate breath to prove to himself you’re still breathing. 

If someone like Uvogin was truly capable of true self reflection- he probably would have during this time. Sure, his mind occasionally filled him with doubt, if his life choices were some fateful cause of your doom. Much like his thoughts had when Bates had you, at least this time he had his eyes on you. 

When the second week finally came to an end and the doctor confirmed it was safe for you to be woken up, that your vitals showed drastic improvement, Uvogin was elated. 

How endearing it was as you whined, eyes fluttering as you struggled to wake. Limbs heavy as you reach in the air through blurry vision, attempting to claw at your face. How you mewled for him relishing in his suffocating touch, fueling his protective instincts more than ever. 

You properly wake to lips against your own, stealing your breath before moving to your jaw. Through heavy eyelids you can make out the side of Uvo’s head, then threading a hand through his wild locks. You can feel his burning lips kissing, the nipping down your neck as he sucks the delicate skin between his teeth to leave marks. A fast sigh of pain leaves your lips as a jolt inside you grounds you to your surroundings. 

“Uvo?” You croak, voice betraying you as it doesn’t sound like your own. Throat dry and hoarse, it hurts to speak so you don’t. 

He doesn’t respond to you right away, Uvogin groping and squeezing at your skin. Swirling heat envelopes your weary limbs, sweat pooling along your hairline as your core goes flush with molten liquid. Sleep still dragged on your eyelids. You could barely move your own legs from the exhaustion and traces of medical nen pricking along you.  

Your legs move, Uvogin spreading your thighs wide. The bed creaks as his weight presses on it. His body exudes searing heat. Burning you as you squirm and mewl about the heavy fog weighing down on you. Chest heavy, heart hammering so much that you hear the blood pounding in your ears as you swallow in anticipation. 

The feeling of your nightgown hiking makes you gasp. Your panties peeled off your form felt like jabs of knives down your numbly tingling skin. 

Uvogin’s thick cockhead prods at your folds, “Fuckin’ hell your soaked. Thinkin’ of me in your dreams?” He chuckled cruelly. 

You whimper as a moistness between your legs fill you with shame, his words only prodding it further. 

Mind lit in static fire, blue and orange with smoke paralyzing your brain as your hips jerk to meet his involuntarily. Body blistering from head to toe, confusing lust settled in you as you feel a pained stretch through your smoky mind. 

“Fuck you’re tight.” Uvogin grunted as he sank his cock further. 

He’s splitting you apart. You cry out, a ghastly moan as your walls spasm around the large length forcing its way in. Dazed and overwhelmed. Impossibly full before you could properly register you were even alive. That you’d been in a coma for two weeks. That now, your poor cunt was shoved full of cock and your stomach expanded as Uvogin grunted with each vicious inch he pushed further in. Fingers seized at his biceps nails drawing blood, toes curled as your legs trembled with feathery pleasure whilst all you felt was unnatural. 

You’re being pushed and pulled every which way, caught in a dangerous undercurrent that shows no reprieve to let you swim upwards. Extraordinary pleasure blossoms within you, petal by petal unfolding and its bright colors glimmering in ecstasy. Ecstasy that choked you up to where you couldn’t breathe as tears brimmed at your eyes, desperately trying to gain senses.

Uvogin began to fuck into you slow, uncaring for the lack of prep, primarily driven by his insatiable want for you. Driven by the fear over your health and his lack of control. That shoving his cock into you to feel your poor gummy walls squeeze the life out of him, settled his churning emotions. That the incessant burn of anxiety in his chest was being snuffed out, and all because the electric pleasure of being one with you brought him. 

“Uvo!” You cry so sweetly for him, all hoarse and face filled with confusion. He was your lifeline in the storm. A storm he brought upon you. One that lifted you and dropped you as his cock hit your most sensitive spots, nestling up against your cervix only to pull out and thrust in again. 

Your lust filled whimpers only grow as Uvogin manhandled your thighs further apart, resting them on his biceps as he towered over you. His thick muscles corded with each push to the hilt of his hips flush to yours. Smacking of skin filled the dry air, your pain still twisting with rapture as his name repeats off your tongue. 

He leans to capture your lips, an inhuman-like groan from the back of his throat tickles your ears. It was one of desperation, higher pitched and letting you see him with shields down. His gigantic body practically trembles upon you as he picks the pace up, pistoning his hard cock over and over, and over. Mind blurring. Squirt dripples from your abused hole as you reach your high through a giant wave of pleasure. 

“Missed you.” Is all he moans. Again. And again.

Your arms move around his neck, legs attempting to wrap around his expansive waist. You can’t imagine him being any further, needing him closer, even closer than the part of him inside you. Because as you blink furiously, registering in your post orgasm haze, about the medical nen coma. That you don’t know the state of your health or the day of the month it is, instead all you can feel is your husband’s cock burying deeper into your guts like he’d never get to again. Overstimulated and too full, Uvogin roared as he came feeling your perfect velvet walls so tight, his vision whiting out. The way the bulge in your lower tummy inflated, the way he re-hardened in seconds to empty you to slam back in. A silent scream all that escapes you.

Fucking through each other’s highs there was nothing you could have ever wanted more than him like this. Maybe you would have wanted him to wake you properly to meet with the doctor to know whether or not you’d live or die. But you’d take this heated moment as you lose your mind as he fucks your sensitive nerves and toys with your clit, murmuring loving yet intense proclamations into your ears. 

Blissed-out face. Uvogin’s eyes burning into yours. Sweat falling from your foreheads. Cries of love. Heavy breaths. Electricity swarms you two, bodies lit in flames of passion and his possession over your body, mind and soul. As he comes again, letting your tiny cunt greedily take his warm seed, your chest sores and a pathetic smile tugs at your lips. You’re babbling incoherent words. Letting him grope you and kiss, and nip and play with your most sensitive areas even as you cried for a reprieve. His come leaked from your folds, an intense river of the warm seed trickling down to the bed, leaving you oh so empty from it and the aftermath of losing his cock. You cried for him to go back inside, that you needed to feel close to him to be one with him. Your hips bucked and jerked as tears fell, pitiful pouts before he laughed.

He sucks and licks along your cunt, slurping your juices and his own seed. Playing with your sensitive and enlarged clit as tingles shoot along your core, twisting so good in your belly. Sweet salvation as you sigh in joy and blurry vision from the pleasure his mouth gave you, collapsing further into the pillows and opening your legs further to welcome him. Fingers threading into his hair to keep his head in the very spot you needed. 

A whimper bubbles from you as he kisses up your aching slit, before leisurely dragging along your sensitive bud that feels just right. Furiously working you to another climax as he suckled your clit, a finger stroking inwards of your thigh. He pads along your sopping entrance and you shudder, watching as two fingers sink into your cunt. Two of his large fingers, which one alone bigger than most cocks. Stretching you out so good as he pumped and curled to your liking, stimulating all the spots that he knew made you go dumb. Uvogin thinks he wants to watch you lose yourself to him but he knows this is a fine line he’s on already, taking advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. But he can’t help himself! You’re just so cute and he’d been so scared the last two weeks. He needed to have his cock deep in your little pussy, the one he’d been so good not to fuck whilst you were in your coma. He wonders if you’d let him fill you again as he jerked his hips against the mattress as his cock began to harden again. 

You’re grinding against him, he smirks before latching back onto your clit and listens to every vibrato of each moan. Of each cry and beg as your slick rushes from your tight cunt, ecstasy blossoming inside you once more as he coaxes orgasm after orgasm from you, him allowing your roadmap of pleasure to lead back to the thick tip of his cock prodding at your slit once more. You smile, so stupidly with a wet face and flushed skin, hardened nipples and asking for him to fill you up again. 

And he does.

Until you're leaking of him. Barely conscious and not able to even moan in pleasure. Until you're trembling and neither your arms or legs can support you anymore. Till he’s shooting blanks and still nudging himself back into you even as you drift off.

Uvogin ruts into your barely there form, pulling you to the edge of the bed so he can have a better view. His come dried and caked onto your skin. Hair a mess. Face swelled red and dried with streaked tears. He grunts as his feet garner support from the ground so he can pound back into you without worrying about the mattress holding him. He doesn’t care that you aren’t crying his name or begging for more. All he sees and cares about how you still squirt little streaks of juices from your hole and across his abdomen. How your body is so obsessed with his touch that he can still make you orgasm even as you lull in and out of sleep. Your clit is so engorged, pink and sensitive but he can’t stop playing with it, rolling it between his calloused fingers as you squirm. Or sucking on it so harshly you passed out earlier, only awoken by him tapping your cheek, pulling the back of your head up so you could watch his cock morph your insides to him as you barely understood what was going on before spasming and blanking out again. Staring into your blank eyes, mouth open in an O-shape, he tells you how much he loves you, and that everything is going to be okay. And of course you believe him, he’s your husband after all, the only man you’d let use you like a fuckdoll in your sickly state to the point your tummy inflated from his thick spurts of come.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself, you’ll come back to the reality of your situation. Tomorrow. For now you’ll bask in your husband as an escape.

-

It’s the next day, your legs and core are so sore, when you meet with the doctor. It felt like the pink blush was permanently painted along your cheeks as he checked over your vitals. Uvogin watched you smug, one hand tracing circles along the low of your back. The memories of yesterday are prevalent in the air, the thought of it makes you go flush. Uvogin knows the effects he has on you even in such a serious moment that you almost want to smack him for it.

This was it. The moment of truth. 

You're fluttering with anxious nerves, stomach churning and you’re eyeing the garbage can for the chance you puke. Thundering in your ears as your heart hammers and blood rushes. It’s like your surroundings were null as you carefully watch the doctor’s every move, listen to his every breath and word to analyze what they mean. Looking for any sign in his body language that you’re fucked, that it failed and you’re officially out of options. 

But it doesn’t come. He smiled warmly between you and Uvogin. 

“As I expected, my nen coma was a success.” 

As he expected? Had he seemed so certain two weeks ago? You didn’t think so, but apparently he believed off of past patients that you’d recover?

He continues, “Your body was able to replenish itself not having to strain itself the last two weeks. You’re out of the danger zones to where traditional medicine will be able to bring you back to around 90% of your strength. While it’ll never be completely perfect, permanent damage has been done, you’ll no longer be in chronic pain day in or day out, or worrying about coughing up blood. You can go up stairs without stopping and go for walks without needing someone’s assistance. You’ll have energy, an appetite, no longer with permanent symptoms of pneumonia, and excitement towards the future once more.” 

You immediately look to Uvogin, who for once looks pleasantly surprised. His eyes glitter as he meets your gaze, and he smiles. It’s genuine, not forced like everything had been at one point to keep your spirits high. Immediately, you fling your arms around him, tears prick at your lash line. Hugging him as tight as you can knowing you couldn’t hurt him, while his boisterous laugh is like music to your ears. 

The doctor sends Uvogin out of the room to fetch food, saying he’ll go over your medications now. 

For a second you stutter, your whole body short circuiting as you don’t want Uvo to leave. But his encouraging nod your way before he closes the door helps you relax. 

You quickly discover why the doctor wanted time alone with you.

“It’s fairly simple, these two bottles of faint coral-pink pills are for the next two months. They’re high dosages which is why they’re rather large pills, do your best to get them down. Take them with food as well.” 

The doctor grabs two other bottles, your stomach drops as you feel a change in the air. 

“Now, I’ll keep it simple. I can’t tell if you’re happy, what kind of doctor would I be if I helped you recover just to keep you with a dangerous band of criminals?” He laments, “The pale yellow pills are for the final month, they’ll cement the work of my nen and the pink pills. You should not regress for the rest of your life, they’re strong and will kill off any remaining infections or diseases. You’ll be lethargic so I recommend taking them at night.”

“What about the blue ones?” You ask, stomach feeling like it was in the pits of hell the way it violently churned within you. 

“They’ll undo mine and the pill’s work and will allow you to pass peacefully. Take them for a final way out.”

“You- How could…” 

“I’ll write down directions, yellow pills if you feel like the pink ones worked. Blue is needed if more aggressive medications are needed after the two months. At your discretion, who would argue?”

For a split second you wonder if this was a test. But you just smile at him, “I really appreciate your help. It’ll be nice to breathe normally again.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

It took all your strength to not focus too intently on the blue pills as the doctor explained to Uvogin what they meant. He was completely bought in by the ‘deceiving’ explanations, no inkling present that one of the bottles could kill you.

You don’t want to think about it, not too much. You want to think about having autonomy once more. To breathe without hacking, to walk without needing help, to eat without getting sick. 

Month one- you take the bottle of pink pills. Each day, you aren’t sure if you’re truly feeling better or if it’s a placebo. A week of getting out of bed without tears or an aching body, is when you realize recovery was possible. You begin to enjoy full meals with Uvo, seeing the delight on his face when you bake for the first time in over a year. You two laugh at the mess, how half the pastries were burnt but it’s progress as you salvage the edible parts to feed the other. Your deep, nasty cough still surfaced each day. Less and less mucus each time. You’d sleep through the nights, once again becoming the one to wake up first like a waiting puppy for its owner, how expectantly you stared down at him nudging him to wake. How for the first time you were able to initiate sex with no worries of getting sick or him hurting you, as you took his swollen lengthy cock into your mouth. Him standing over you as he lets you explore him with your tongue. He’s so heavy and you giggle, warm and needy as you suck and kiss, lick along his thick veins to the point he can’t handle your teasing. You cry as he fucks your face but they’re good tears, and he watches as you swallow and then open your mouth to show him. Uvogin never leaves your side but for once you feel joy towards it, not frustration. 

Month two- you still take the pink pills and the improvement is astronomical. You giggle like a maniac as you skip about the fluttering grass outside the Troupe’s Base. Uvo watches you spin about before falling to the ground in exhaustion, he smiles as you bask in the sun. You’re breathing heavily but no coughing fits come. You’re bright red and clearly tired but you can still get up to keep going. He’s relaxing under a tree and you’re running around like your life depended on it, he thinks you’re just so damn cute. This is the month you return to more hobbies, become more talkative and want to watch more shows or finally give him back snarky remarks. Uvogin almost dies from the elation, the lightness of his chest at how life returned to you, how you were you. Not the husk of a person stolen away because of disease, you’re happy. Right? 

It’s now month three- you stare between the two bottles. ‘Take the blue pills for a way out.’ The doctor's words reverberate, you’d ignored them for the first two months not wanting to worry about it. Not wanting to get in your head before making a decision. 

You sit in the main room of the Troupe’s Base, Chrollo had called a last minute meeting the night before so Uvogin had to cart you out of bed, ruining a rather good dream. You’re staring at the medications on the counter, then eyes flickering to the clock. Today was the first day you needed to make your choice, the one you’d avoided for so long. 

Sickness numbed your mind at times, while at others allowed you to see things for what they really were. You think. You’d been ready to die, to be released from chronic neverending pain, but now having life back changed your mind. Little things you’d always taken more granted were now things you would never want to lose again. Maybe you’d lost yourself a long time ago, maybe you were always a horrible person to love Uvogin, but as you recount all these years with him you don’t want to lose him. Or the way he loved you. The doubt you’d had towards him after Bates was finally washing away, you walled all the incessant ringing you’d have in your ears off. No more were you susceptible to the common sense you had at the start of your captivity to always hang onto the truth about him. You walled it all off, brick by brick in your head. 

Maybe a part of you wants him to suffer. Wondering how he’d react when you suddenly fell sick again and passed, would he be ruined? Would he move on? You figured he’d do something dumb, find a way to get himself killed more likely. So you walled those feelings off too. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” You smile as Uvo walks out from one of the halls. You mewl into his large hand as he cups the side of your head before moving so you could lean back into him. He’s so large over you that when you lean back on the side of your chair that you only reach up to his thighs. 

You crane your neck to look up, “Everything okay?”

“Yep. Nothin’ for you to worry about.” He looks at the bottles on the table, “So, what ones you thinking? Can you mix them depending on how you feel each day?”

“Uh, don’t know about that, doubt it? I’ve been trying to recount everything to make a decision. Because I mean… I can’t complain, I feel good.” 

“Right.” Uvogin held a hand for you to take, then he grabbed your waist to help you up, “Up to you then, babe.”

The feeling of his thumb circling against your clothed side and the suddenness of standing makes your head spin. In a moment of striking clarity you reach to grab one of the bottles, certain in your choice.

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.” You grin up at him, squeezing his hand as you lace your fingers with his. 

The bottle of yellow pills rattles in your hand as you two make your way to his room. The blue pills sit forgotten, almost screaming out for you to change your mind, to think things through again. That you needed to at least leave cracks in the wall you created to protect yourself, just in case. But you didn’t. You coated it in shiny protective layers of something in your mind, causing your chest to surge in feelings of love and all things gooey and over the top. Just stars left shining in your eyes as you look at him. 

The month of taking the yellow pills passed, they made you lethargic like the doctor said they would, causing you to get mass amounts of sleep. But he was right, they made you feel good as new. 

You sit cross legged in the townhome, leafing through pages of your book as Uvogin shuffles around in the kitchen. He’d insisted that he’d make dinner tonight, which you told him takeout would be just as satisfactory (and probably better anyways). 

After multiple interventions on your part you two finally sit connected at the hip as your weekly show plays, food in hand. When Uvo finishes he tucks an arm around your waist pulling you closer, pressing a kiss to your hair. A heaviness in your chest suddenly becomes apparent, each time you swallow the food seeming dry and tasteless. 

“Uvo?”

He sensed the tension in your small body immediately, but didn’t say anything as he knew you were still adjusting. While physically you could handle a lot from long walks or eating actual food, mentally you were still catching up with the changes. 

“What’s up?”

“Can I tell you something?” You ask meekly. Your fingers feel sweaty, you have to set the food down on the coffee table immediately. A storm rages within you. One side telling you to spill, the other telling you to let this be a secret you die with.

“Anything.” 

“The- You remember the blue pills I could have taken instead of the yellow ones?” More screaming within you to stop. Like hands were physically trying to drag your voice back down, that this would only anger him. 

“I do.” 

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, focusing on your hands in your lap. You’re more aware of his hulking presence holding you to him than before. You’re more aware of his steady heartbeat and breaths as you wait for them to speed up, to show his anger.

“You can’t get mad.”

“Mad ‘bout what? You end up taking any?” 

Your heart is hammering in your ribs, like it’d burst out ripping you and all your biggest fears into the open. It’s giving you away, you know it. The room felt like it was closing in, suffocating you until you took a deep breath in. No lies. You were given a new chance at life and you would not keep this from him. Couldn’t. It was best it came from you rather than someone else somehow down the road. 

“They would have actually killed me.” 

Silence. 

“Uvo?”

“Yeah?”

He’s not reacting how you thought he would. He starts to fucking laugh and you’re staring at him like a deer in headlights. It makes feelings of annoyance bubble in your chest, anger as your nose flares and your pupils dilate. 

“Why… Are you laughing? It’s not funny.”

“Course it’s not, babe, but I already knew.” He shrugged. 

“How?”

“Shalnark. Guess he got curious what was in them after you said you wouldn’t be taking them. I said he could have ‘em to do whatever that tech freak does.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“Came to me and told me they would have regressed your pneumonia and caused you to pass in your sleep eventually. So I assumed you were aware of that, the doctor probably lied to me, and you made the choice to live. Of course I had to wonder what if you didn’t know and it was all luck you didn’t take them, now I know it wasn’t.”

“That’s why you didn’t say anything?”

“Yep, figured if you didn’t know you’d have flipped shit.”

“Why are you acting so calm? You’re freaking me out.”

Uvogin forced you to look up at him. He pulled you in for a quick kiss, “Because you chose me. You had all that time to think about it so you must have known for certain you wanted to be with me.” He grinned deviously, “Course I’m a little irked but, I do deserve some shit still for kidnapping you. I’d say it all worked out though, huh?” 

You playfully smacked his chest, unable to hide your grin, “You know I looked at the blue pills as a way out if the medical coma and pink pills didn’t work. That if I was back in pain, I couldn’t believe it almost, I was ready to suffer again. Not once did I want to use them because I wanted to be away from you. Sure I wondered if you deserved to suffer for the shit you do, but I love you. I wanted help from that doctor because I want more time with you, I could have said no to Chrollo three months ago. So I knew what my choice was from the start. You’re all I wanted those months with Bates, I had time to think, unravel my feelings yet you’re it for me Uvo. Guess you’ll get your karma in another way.”

“So fucking cute, wife.” His lips crushed onto yours again, his tongue shoving inside claiming you. He pulled you to straddle his lap before he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, “You had me believing in that stupid karma shit, you know that? Glad you’re finally passed me being a mass murderer and all that.”

“Don’t say it like that!” You groan, shame prickling the back of your neck making you go warm. The wall is still strong in your mind, keeping you happy, keeping you from fully feeling that shame that should have made you go comatose. Instead it allowed you to kiss him with all your might, tugging at the shirt he wore. A kiss turned to desperate chaos as teeth gnashed and lips fought for dominance, saliva shared and dripping as lewd moans began to fill the air. Carnal touches. Salacious grunts. Swirling hot sex filled air controlled you two as clothes thrown discarded and forgotten, unneeded. 

You’d made your decision. How much of it was really your own, was left up for discussion. You’d never know how much of this you really wanted, or if you’d fallen in love out of necessity for survival. Or if Uvogin really was who you were meant to be with. But all you knew as Uvogin forced his swollen cock passed your tight unprepped walls, you’d never want anything more than this man as you cried. You who practically passed out as he breached your aching cunt and to the hilt of your cervix, outlining your tummy and pushing to stretch you even more as he yelled out for you. This man who loved you furiously and would destroy the whole world for you if you asked. And that- wasn’t that the grandest declaration of one’s feelings you could receive? 

Right? 

authors note on an alternate ending— i view it as if reader were to die than this would head towards canon where uvogin dies by kurapika’s hand and he’s all content because he gets to see you again :))

[r0semaryt3a]

Hi, could I please request a collective scenario of the Phantom Troupe going on a first date with their s/o?

And if possible them going to choose a pet (arguably the more chaotic the better, but whoever animal works fine) with their s/o?

Thank you 🥰

Oh absolutely! I’ll admit to it now, these may be a little ooc but still, I love this idea sm. ofc I’m only gonna do Chrollo, Shalnark, Machi, Paku, Feitan and Phinks w the dates (though may return to this at a later date for the others) - p.s this won’t contain spoilers so for that one friend who knows me on here and reads my stuff feel free to read this.

(I’m including Hisoka and Illumi in this because that pet suggestion is perfect!)

Without further ado:

Chrollo

Where you go will just depend on how you know him. You know him from the Troupe? It’s anyone’s guess! Maybe he’ll take you out for the full shabam, maybe you’ll just sit cuddled up: reading. A candle flickering softly beside you as you rest against his chest, his voice echoing through you with every passing page. Your eyes grow groggy and you hear him chuckle, “tired sweetheart?” Your answer doesn’t matter much. You’ll remain where you are. Carefully perched on his lap as you drift off, his fingers playing absentmindedly with your hair. Suddenly, his attention wasn’t really on his book anymore.

Or, maybe you’ll just walk! You know who he is; probably where he came from he sees no reason to put up an act with you. A simple chat will do.

If you know him from one of his many escapades, know the him all dolled up and fake then you’ll probably wind up at a fancy restaurant. He’ll treat you to the works, the full 9*. You’ll be able to indulge in whatever you desire (and hopefully by the end of the night: him. Though his expectations are quite low on that.)

Can’t imagine him being very touchy on a first date, not unless he was properly invested. Like if you knew each other a while and the event wasn’t spontaneous I can imagine him being very cuddly. You’ve agreed to go on a date with him, this will not be the last and he’s certainly going to get what he can out of it.

So, if you’re a target that he’s had his eye on for a while, he’ll put up a gentlemanly front: butter you up. Try his luck as his arm comes to rest against the crook of your back, fingers running small circles agaisnt your hips. You’re practically glued to his side as he looks down at you with that oh so charming smile. Or how he insists on another bottle of wine for you both to share whilst you’re sat at the table, just to watch the way you trip over yourself. Each slurred word sending shivers down his spine. He’ll offer you a hotel in your inebriated state: walking you to your room, keeping you steady. A part of him (an alarmingly large part he notes) wishes to be bold and leave you a souvenir of your night together, the rest of him knows how to play this game. Knows better than that. He’ll leave it be for tonight, no use in moving too fast after all. You’re an investment. One he intends to make worth his while.

Aaaaand if you’re some lucky shmuck: he’ll see how the night goes. Truth be told, he’s using you. You were his pass for whatever caper he happened to be on the night you two met and since then you’ve been simply smitten. He can’t say it’s been a bother, you’re cute by all means considered and don’t impose on his work: so he humoured you. And now, you’re sat face to face as he spins another tale of his grandiose, noble lineage. You were so enthralled in his lies. The night would drag on and before you knew it, a swift peck on the cheek; promise for another and he’d be gone.

In terms of choosing a pet with an S/O Chrollo strikes me as the kind of guy who’d go for a cat. It’s not top docile but not some unruly beast. Plus, there’s the added bonus of letting it wander: it won’t demand attention at every second of the day. Just slink in and slink out every now and then. It’d probably be a stray, he has a tendency to like them more.

If we’re going on terms of expense? Lizards, you’d wind up with a whole bunch of expensive and equally exotic reptiles. A chameleon maybe? Just like him, it can blend into any crowd. A kindred spirit.

Feitan

A date? With him? Really? But why? That’s just a waste of time.

Unlike Chrollo, Feitan doesn’t do outside gigs often and especially doesn’t do anything that would involve getting touchy feely. So, likelihood is you’re a fellow trope member or at least someone who knows him well.

Still. Getting a date with him will be hard.

Obscenely so.

You’ll most likely stay at whatever base the Troupe had made, maybe play a game? Talk?

If he’s feeling up to it he’ll probably steal a fancy Chardonnay and light candles, it’s nothing too special but it’s a nice touch.

If he’s the one to suggest the date however. Oh boy, you best prepare good.

Feitan is an odd soul, he doesn’t really understand that you might not want to start the date with him brutally mangling a chauffeur. But, the rest of the night will certainly make up for that. You won’t be leaving his side: at all, like not once. Don’t even try it. His hand is glued to yours as he drags you through streets. He made an effort tonight, in a suit.

It’s anyone’s guess as to where you’ll wind up, most likely a store you’d expressed interest in, a movie you’d been talking about recently or a restaurant that you liked the food from. Either way it’s free for the both of you.

You may wind up completely alone on a candle lit dinner, flirtatious banter rolling of his tongue in drunken clumps if he loosens up enough (which is a big if)

He’ll bite you at least once throughout the date. Not even because he thought it would be romantic, he just wanted to.

Pet wise? Something small, that he can vary around. Probably a snake or a rodent. He’d say things like “Need violent. Help out.” Then you’ll catch him with his little rat nestled into his hood.

It’s not a pet for the both of you, it’s a pet for him. Which, you don’t really mind afterall it quells his little attachment outbursts

Phinks

Basic. I mean real basic.

He’s nervous as on a first date.

Will talk about himself a lot but he’s not trying to be rude (maybe)

You’ll most likely head out to a restaurant or a movie.

Unlike Feitan, Phinks may actually pay for his meal and the event’s expenses. Give the facade of a normal date and not a robbery.

If you know him from the troupe he probably won’t prioritise keeping up appearances unless you’ve expressed you want a normal night. If you don’t: it’ll be like every teen movie fantasy.

He had protested agaisnt your movie of choice, called it “bland” and talked of there “being so many better options.” But, you swear, with his eyes glued intently on the screen before you; his arm slung over your shoulder, you caught the occasional flicker of a smile.

Pet wise? Dog. This is just a fact, you’re getting a dog. Maybe a Labrador or a Cane Corso? He’s a sucker for loyalty and more than willing to put in the effort of caring for it.

Machi

“A date? But why? We spend enough time together here, don’t we?”

It’s not that she doesn’t want to go on one, she’s just aware that her presence as an on site doctor is important. (And values the money)

She’s perfectly capable of being romantic; this date will show that. When you inevitably get her to cave.

It’ll probably be a cafe, ice cream venue: something small. Unlike the others, she doesn’t try to blow you away with bold or tacky displays. The image will perfectly replicate a domestic scene.

The two of you, sat beside one another on a flimsy outdoor table. You’d ordered milkshakes, similarly to Phinks if you wanted normalcy she’d be more than happy to pay, occasional bouts of small talk drifted between the two of you. Eventually her hand found your own and the small talk fell to teasing, a gentle thumb caressing the back of your hand. “How’s your drink?” The question seemed off in the onslaught of flirtatious remarks, her monotonous front swiftly returning. She hummed at your response. “Want to try some of mine?”

If you refuse, she’ll simply shrug and return to the mismatch mix of small talk and romance.

If you say you do want to however, that’s a different story. She pushes the glass towards you; you lean in -tentatively- to grab it. Nothing much else happens: the flavours meet your tongue and your guard begins to lower. Suddenly, a warmth floods through you, as in a swift motion, Machi planks a kiss on your cheek. It’s nothing big, nothing bold. But, it lasts, a lingering knot in your chest. She’s had the effect she wanted and knows that. It was cute watching you regain composure: keep your guard up, she’ll be testing your reflexes again soon.

Pet wise I’m thinking a scavenger, like a fox or something. She’s not going to get a conventional pet, maybe on your way back home you catch a glimpse of orange? She’s enamoured with the thing in seconds.

Either that or a bird, she’d probably train it to help with her nensticthes. (not that she needs it)

Shalnark

He’s the one to ask you.

The date’s perfect, down to every detail. All tailored to your tastes.

He’s very cuddly during the whole ordeal so best be prepared.

The date itself would consist of a flurry of different activities, all scheduled to fit neatly into whatever time you had. If something were to come up that you seemed particularly fond of, he’d drop the rest. Instead, turning his attention to ensuring you kept on enjoying whatever it was you were both doing.

Shalnark strikes me as the kind of guy to want to go shopping for a date and likely wouldn’t be of shy of this fact. Bringing a small purse (mostly filled with trinkets and not actually money) to elude to his wants.

You’re ending the night with at least 1 set of matching items and him practically glued to you: one arm wrapped around your waste and another occasionally fiddling with loose aspects of your attire, bombarding you with questions: “did you enjoy yourself?” “Ooh, next time we should get XXX.” “Why’d you choose to wear this? Not that I’m complaining, you look stunning, just curious~”

Overall? It’s quite the fruitful experience.

Pet wise: Shalnark doesn’t really care, he’s always wanted to see how well he could look after a fish or rodent of some kind but has also always adored the idea of owning some big, fluffy creature. He’ll most likely wind up looking up pros and cons and running off of that.

Pakunoda

Restaurant date all the way.

Like Shalnark, she’s the one to suggest the idea to you.

She goes all out. And I mean all out. When you first see her, she’s stunning. Hair pristine, brilliant outfit, heels adding to her already towering height.

She’s not shy with compliments, her hand resting in the crook of your arm. Every word is picked with poise, with no doubt on sincerity.

The night is normal all things considered, she’s more than willing to pay and almost bends over backwards to ensure nothing ‘thievish’ happens.

The dinner would be lovely, you can’t help but note the meticulous care placed into every action. The seating giving you just the seclusion she needs to smother you with flirtatious quips. She’s good with her tongue as well, knows every which way, every which syllable to elicit the exact reactions she wants. The night would be one to remember; depending on the status of your relationship, might stay with you a few days longer.

“You like the food, love?” You mumble your response through a mouthful, nodding your head to accentuate your point. This earns a hearty laugh from the woman, “Mhm, I’m glad to hear it.” Her eyes don’t leave your figure for one second. She’d been like that all night, drinking in every aspect of your form, “Have I told you how good you look tonight?” She had, a lot, but the sentiment stood strong nonetheless.

Pet wise? Also a cat. Paku’s just a cat lady I don’t make the rules, probably a long hair. Like a Turkish Angora or Cymric.

Hisoka

Oh boy. Really? I mean, really?

It’s your funeral and I’m not even certain I can say that figuratively.

The date is anyone’s guess. Could be a restaurant or it could be something obscene like rock climbing, rollerblading, go karting. Whatever it is, it won’t be boring.

He’ll pick an activity that forces proximity, you’re going to be close for the whole night. A means of bonding if you will.

Hisoka thrives on attention and watching skill in action, so his ideal date would encompass both of those qualities. On one hand, you’re both pressed up against one another, full reign to do what you’d like (within account of public decency of course) and on the other, you’re showing exceptional stamina and strength in keeping up with him.

No shortage of flirting here folks, every other word will carry some lewd innuendo you’re sure not to miss.

By the end you’ll definitely have some marks on you, whether from him or the date itself is 50/50. If it is from the date’s activities however, he’d always be open to remedy that.

“I have to say, I’m quite impressed you know.” The words were hardly audible from your positioning, you were far more focused on keeping yourself upright anyhow. “If I’d have known you were this capable I would’ve suggested another activity.” There’s an underlying threat to his words, yet somehow the compliment (if you could call it that) leaves a pink hue upon your cheeks.

Pets. Hmmm, pets. Hisoka would need something that wouldn’t settle down, wouldn’t rely on routine so most domestic animals are off the table for him. Things that need specific conditions would also be a no. Overall Hisoka needs something that can keep up with his sporadic lifestyle, otherwise he’ll leave it behind. Which really leaves very little options on the table.

But, there’s a chance something might sweep him off his feet and I’d be willing to bet that’d be a spider or reptile of some kind, something that he knows could and would kill him. The thought of snakes and their incapability to love would probably excite him.

Illumi

Boring.

Very, very, very boring.

He does everything he’s meant to and I mean that he tick every little box. There’s no excitement here unless he has a job or someone does something.

And oh boy, you better believe you’re not walking out of there without at least something to show of it.

He is rather gentle with you, if it weren’t for his overall aloof demeanour you may be prone to calling it endearing. Overall, Illumi would be a rather: interesting case. Unless you somehow sparked something in him you’d probably be best holding off on the dates for a while. But hey! You tried right?

Pet wise, why would he need another? He has Mike. It’s a little too much responsibility with how much he moves around, though if he had to chose it’d probably be a rabbit. Why? He couldn’t say, has just always been drawn to them.

This is like my first time writing any of these characters other than Chrollo so I hope I did them justice-

[hisokakissmeplz]

How they Eat Pussy

super nsfw mdni

Adulttrio, Leorio, Machi

Machi

She is the queen of it

Although she prefers receiving she doesn't cut corners when giving

She knows where it is obviously

She kissed you right after too

Would tie her hair back before if it isn't already up yk

Omg this woman would be so good at it though

She likes the pie in the sky position but also just having you on your back with your legs spread too

Would squeeze your ass during

And your tits

She loves touching your body and your moans and gasps just encouraging her

She isn't much of a tease however she'll make you cum untill she's done

Leorio

As I've said before, the coochieman

he's good at it considering he's very inexperienced

You had to tell him where it is

Gets super nervous and shy when you ask for it

He has really long fingers ;)

Likes when you're sitting on the couch and he's on the floor eating you out with your legs over his shoulders

He honestly loves doing it so much

He's super nervous to ask tho

Asks you if he's doing good or if you like it while he's going down on you

Would love when you praise him about it or moan his name during

Illumi

He probably didn't even know what oral sex was until you told him, honestly

he's a quick learner though

long ass fingers again

He probably has lip piercings too

He doesn't ask you for it but is more than willing to if you ask

Truth is he's nervous

also he really thought that sex was only about procreation until he met you

He's pretty well informed on the body bc he's and assassin

Still had to ask Hisoka where it is though

Talks about how good you are for him while he's going down on you and how slutty you are for asking him to eat you

Hisoka

Munch

Most definitely like I couldn't see him not living and breathing eating you out

His favorite meal of the day

Tells you how good you taste and how much he loves going down on you

we're all aware of how pretty his hands and fingers are

if you're lucky and he feels generous he'll cut his fingernails but most of the time he just like covers them with bungee gum or smth

Probably eats ass too if you're cool with that

"Hiso what do you want to eat?" "You." Or "Baby, how do you expect me to eat anything when all I can think about is how good you taste between your legs?"

I think about this non-stop

Absolutely knows where it is

Vamp ifykyk

Would eat it after you two have sex too he doesn't gaf if you're dripping with his cum he a freak

Wakes you up with it

Loves when you sit on his face

Chrollo

Adores going down on you

You had to tell him where it was

Likes when you stand above him and he kneels infront of you with one of your legs draped over his shoulder

very reassuring during too

Always reminds you how good you are and how much likes it

he's vamp too

Leaves hickies all over your thighs while he's down

Likes when you're commanding him what to do or how to use his mouth

[machisneedle]

⋆˚࿔ welcome to my blog ! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

This blog I've made is dedicated to writing for my interests!! So basically, I write fanfics is the easiest way to put it ☆₊˚ ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎

Intro 🕷️ྀི` .

For a quick understanding of who I am and what I do, my name is iris and I'm 19, 20 in March!

My main hyperfixations right now are hunter x hunter IM SO IN LOVE W FEITAN RAHH <33.

I also really like honkai star rail, zenless zone zero and sometimes genshin (I don't play the game but adore the characters).

Some other animes I enjoy are jujutsu kaisen , chainsaw man , hellsing , higarashi when they cry and jojos bizarre adventure !

Blog rules and who I write for 🕷️ྀི` .

Rules

With fanfics, especially smut, I'm not picky with what I read or write ? But I obviously do have my limits.

I won't write bathroom stuff... It just grosses me out sorry.

Hard gun or knife play that could risk safety, not sure it just feels awkward to me.

L0l1-c0n/inappropriate activities with underage people, i will write fluff or friendship headcanons for minors but refuse to write smut, unless i age them up.

Unneeded abuse, now that sounds bad but stuff that feeds into a fetish instead of a plot I mean.

Those are my main rules, and I am willing to write more... unconventional stuff like (somno , light non-con , light feet stuff). Not that I'm particularly interested in it sexually , I just find it interesting to write.

Who I write for

Hunter x hunter -

Feitan , chrollo , kurapika , machi , pakunoda , sometimes hisoka , shalnark , illumi , shizuku , gon (platonicly) and killua (platonicly).

Honkai star rail -

Blade , Sunday , moze , jiaoqiu , doctor ratio , jade , acheron , kafka and also jing yuan maybe.

Genshin -

Capitano , neuvillette , kazuha , Al-haitham , diluc , Lisa , raiden shogun / ei and clorinde.

Zenless zone zero -

Seth , wise and lighter.

Jujutsu kaisen-

Yuta okkotsu (aged up) , suguru geto , megumi fushiguro (aged up) and maki zenin (aged up).

⋆˚࿔ Final notes ! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

My asks are very much open so if you want me to write something just ask !

Remember to drink water and goodbye <3

[o7k5a8m9i]

~♡Perfect Little Family ♤~ Hisomachi

{Recap!🧵🃏 Machi finds out she's pregnant and the father is Hisoka. now He's asked who the father is, what will the outcome be!..} ⚠️You Must read the other chapters before this one to Understand what's going on!⚠️⬇️⬇️⬇️ here's the second latest chapter^^

Chapter 3: ~Father~🧵🃏

[Machi just gave him the hardest stare. looking into his soul as if saying "It's you" Hisoka picked up on this then spoke again]

Hisoka: I..is it me?~...(*his smile widen's a bit*)

Machi: .... (*sighs*)...yes... it's you dumbass...

[Hisoka's smiles the biggest Machi's every seen. tears form at the end of his eyes]

Hisoka: Oh my God.... really!?~ I can't believe it!! my lovely Machi is pregnant!~ but not just pregnant with any baby but My baby!~^^

[although Machi'd really like to tell him off right about now... she couldn't. she saw how happy he was and it even filled her with happiness. a very small bit. but it was still there]

Machi: yup...I guess I am...(*very small smile*)

Hisoka: so when did you find out?~

Machi: a week and a half ago

Hisoka: Oh wow... I'm gonna be father~ I never thought of the possiblity of that but oh to hell with it! I'll have a child to take care of a real child my child...our child~^^

[as far as Machi knows this is the happiest she's ever seen him. well as far as genuine happiness]

Machi: y... yeah..I never really thought about it either

Hisoka: well...this is all assuming you keep the baby...

[a bit of sadness filled his voice. and a bit of sadness rush's over Machi. thinking about aborting the baby. she hasn't really thought about it till now]

Machi: ...look I don't know yet I wanted to talk to you about it first...

Hisoka: Oh well a appreciate that~^^

Machi: so what do you want. for me to keep it or not...

Hisoka: well I think it should be up to you~ but if it was up to me I'd like if you keep it~

Machi: ok... I'll ask Dancho about it later...

Hisoka: Chrollo doesn't know yet?~ (*A bit of a smirk on his face*) I guess I was the first person you told~

Machi: Shut up!! it doesn't really matter!.. I told you cuz you're the damn father!..

Hisoka: Oh yes yes~ am I really the father though?~

Machi:How many times do I have to say it! your the damn dad!

Hisoka: Oh⭐—_— 💧well...how do you know?~

Machi: look I KNOW ok!?/// (*blushs a TINY bit*)

Hisoka: ok ok fine~

[Machi Cross's her arms over her chest clearly annoyed by him]

Machi: Anyway I'm gonna go.

Hisoka: Where you going dear?~

Machi: to rest..and stop calling me "Dear"

Hisoka: Aww but I like to call you that it's cute~

Machi: you make it sound like we're a married couple...uhh..

Hisoka: but Machi~ Someday we might just be~

Machi: yeah in your dreams..

Hisoka: Oh but Machi we might already have a kid how far off is marriage~

Machi: Just shut it! I'm taking one thing at a time so shut the Hell up!

Hisoka: Ok fine -_-....

Machi: ok I'm gonna go talk to Dancho....

Hisoka: ok good luck dear~

[And with that she gave him a dirty look and walked off]

HISOKA POV: Hmmm maybe my fight with Chrollo can wait a little longer~ I'd like to see how this goes~ I never planned for a child~

{To be continued🌷}

...†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†....†...

A/N I tired remember this is cringe & OOC sorry 😭💖 I know it took awhile✨🌸 please forgive me!🌹

[aiphosss]

my phantom troupe obsession is going to be the death of me

[eyesofbong]

(!☆!: Reader is written as a female)

Ch. 1: The Fallen Shepherd is out now!

Author's Note: This is a rewritten version of an old idea I had planned for a fic/series, sparked by sudden inspiration and a plethora of ideas, as it takes place before the events of the York New Arc. I plan to update chapters weekly. As for now, here is the summary!

You were once a well-known Hunter, a name whispered with respect and fear alike, until you vanished, leaving your past behind. But when a young man’s tragic story awakens old wounds, you return, determined to finish one last job. Disguised as a devout follower, you infiltrate a quiet town where a beloved priest hides in plain sight. You soon recognize the ghost of the child you once cared for haunting the Phantom Troupe leader in question. As you walk the fine line between duty and personal guilt, you must decide: can you bring down the monster he’s become, or will the weight of your own failures trap you in his web?

[0asisbliss]

Pretty pretty please with sugar on top, could we maybe perchance get some headcanons for the vampire phantom troupe biting reader for the first time?? Since doing all of them would be a lot maybe just Chrollo, Machi, Pakunoda, Feitan, and Shalnark please? Also just as a side question for future requests, do you consider Illumi and Hisoka part of the troupe?

A/N: Hiii anon! I do consider Illumi and hisoka a part of the troupe, but I don’t really write much for Hisoka. So his is less likely to be answered than others. Though you all are free to request him!

Other note: Also, the characters won’t automatically turn you when bitten.🤷🏽‍♀️

Warnings: Mentions if sex, oral, Shalnark is freak.

Chrollo:

Chrollo doesn't sneak nor does he just up and grab a hold of you a take a bite.

First of off all for Chrollo to bite someone he has to have strong feelings for such person for him to even consider biting them.

He really observes the way you act once he finally bites down on your skin.

Once he does it the first time he’ll continuously do it

It was already known that you were going to be turned into a vampire like him at some point.

The reason being Chrollo knows how fast a humans like can go by. He’s had continuous human lovers and has had his little cold heart broken plenty times.

The first time he bites you, oh he’s serious and he means business. Straight down. No soft nibbles, or licks just full teeth.

This doesn’t mean he loves you any less though.

He does patch up the wound, and cleans it as a little sorry if you are upset.

Pakunoda:

She’s sneaky with it definitely.

You’ll be all relaxed in the bathtub, and just lathered up in the finest smelling soaps, and chomp.

And the bite doesn’t even hurt as bad. I mean it’s so soft you just look at her, and then she looks at you with big puppy eyes almost like she’s apologizing.

You laugh it off, and she does too.

Over time she gets more and more comfortable with biting you.

But for the first time in forever she bites you for real it surprises you.

She finally drew blood. Once this happens and she gets a slightest taste of you be prepared to get bitten at least a couple times a day.

Though if she turns you then she’ll show you all of the places to get a yummy little snack.

Gives a little kiss on the marking afterwards.

Machi:

She’s shy.

She’s the only one in this list that’ll ask you before she starts to nibble.

You two would be eating dinner and she would randomly start mumbling about how nice it would be.

Then she finally asks, but it’s a mumble more than anything you barely hear her.

It when she goes quiet and say it again then she speaks about it.

I completely understand if you don’t want to-

Then you cut her off saying about how much you wanted her to do it anyway.

Also, she wouldn’t do it right away.

Once you two are cuddled up, or even when you’re sleeping is when she makes her move.

Machi is the only one that doesn’t plan on turning you, so she won’t actually go deep just a little nibble.

Shalnark:

He doesn’t even ask. He just does it.

He would be fucking your brains out and bite the shit out of you out of nowhere.

It’s not a slow bite but a big and sharp one.

He has the 5th sharpest teeth in the troupe. Chrollo being first, and Feitan being fourth.

He's mean about it too. Always teasing you about his markings.

No matter if they are big or small.

It's almost certain that he'll turn you, and when he does the biting doesn't stop there.

The biting further increases if anything, flooding your body with bruises also may occur when you're still in your human form.

He and Chrollo are the most passionate about turning you on this list.

While eating you, he might just bite you then. (He has a biting kink)

He'll lick where he bite you every time to gather every little flavor.

Feitan:

His bite is purposely harsh.

No warning, no context, just chomp.

He won't turn you within the couple weeks he's done it like the other have mainly because of the fact that he enjoys you being human.

Feitan is the only one in the Troupe that considers having you be a human way more than you being a vamp like him.

Humans bruise easily. Adorable. Humans make the cutest little expressions when seeing blood. Adorable. Humans make the prettiest little noises when hurt. Adorable.

His bite may also be fatal.

Feitan really has forgotten how fragile humans are, but he'll soon find out when you are bleeding from a wound and it doesn't stop.

And then he will have no choice but to turn you.

[hello-gloomy]

'What was your nen again?'

____________________

Phantom troupe x Gen!reader

Description: The troupe finally had some free time so you decided to meet up with them again, you happen to bring up something none of them mentioned to you which brings up a question.

Warnings: Crack taken seriously. I don't think there's any use of Y/N aside from that pretty tame some of them might be OOC it's my first time writing for so many characters.

A/N: Just something short (Maybe) to tide us all over till the first two polls are done or till I finish my other WIPs. (I should be doing work rn but I'm not.) :^

_____________________

"You need to work on your sleeping habits."

"...What..?"

"You didn't go to sleep till 2 yesterday." Shalnark looked mildly unnerved at your claims, which made you feel slightly bad for the unconscious snooping you do through everyone's memories. But you couldn't help but bring it up, how is he supposed to commit crimes on three hours of sleep all the time. Bound to make mistakes like that.

"I never told you that..." This gains the attention of Pakunoda who happens to be close by she gets up from where she was sitting in the large dining hall you and the group were staying at for their temporary break.

"Told them what?"

"What time he went to sleep." Her brows furrowed for a second while she glanced at a shocked Shalnark.

"Lucky guess?" She pondered out loud, He grimaced at that while you giggled at his facial expression.

"I peeked at his memories."

"Brother eugh." You full-on belly laughed at that attracting some more of the others to get closer.

"What's going on now?"

"Shal didn't go to sleep till two."

"Explains eyebag."

"I DO NOT HAVE EYEBAGS."

Feitan moved closer to your left side while Shalnark opened up the camera on his phone to look at his eyes to prove his point.

"How see memory?"

"With my Nen." Everyone stopped and looked at you.

"You have Nen?"

"Mmm...Yeah..?"

"So your Nen is similar to mine then?"

"Kind of, just without the gun. I could project other people's memories too."

"Show Shalnark memory."

"Do not."

With that, you summon your nen and a small eyeglass appears you scope out an open wall and find one large enough by Uvo and Nobunaga. You motion for the others to follow behind you while Shalnark whines for you not to embarrass him. Walking past the other pair they take notice and ask Paku what's happening she gives a brief explanation. You engage Gyo and through your eye, you show the memory of Shalnark on his computer and after a bit of fast forwarding through the memory, you show him passed out at the desk. The projection comes to an end and you turn around to find Machi and Korotopi have joined you as well. Pakunoda turns to Shalnark to scold him first.

"they're right you do need to work on your sleeping habits." She held her hand on the side of her face. Shalnark turned a bit pink at her remark while Uvo and Nobunaga started laughing at him.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were the two of you considering how reckless you were being last week." They stopped immediately, and Machi's eyes were practically excited, begging you to show their embarrassing moments. You let out a quiet huff and turned around to project another moment. Showing the two men almost getting blown up on the task Chrollo had previously sent them on.

"Nice job."

"Shut up Machi!"

"Why don't you show one of her embarrassing moments!!"

"And get strung up hard pass. I like living unlike you two obviously." That had everyone laughing again. Chrollo had magically materialized and joined the theatrics of the group you had all made now.

"How far back can you go with individual memories?"

"From the instant their brain forms." "But I usually don't snoop back that far without explicit permission."

"If you'd prefer I can show memories from when you were younger?" You hold eye contact with Chrollo while the rest watch on. You get a bit nervous and start to doubt the previous forwardness you had getting ready to retract your question, Chrollo interrupts yours and everyone's thoughts.

"Just don't go back too far."

Carefully you picked a memory that you found lovely, one between The boss and Pakunoda. Everyone hushed when the light from your eye displayed upon the wall, you all heard the tune before you saw anyone, piles upon piles of trash a few giggles in between notes of the crackling song and soon enough two small figures came into view a young Chrollo and Paku holding hands arms enveloped around the waist of the other. They were beaming at one another you let it play a bit longer before it cut out. Turning around everyone was looking between Paku and Dancho. Pakunoda wiped her eyes before she looked over to a smiling Chrollo.

"That was a good choice."

[cinderella-ish]

My evolving thoughts on who Yuki should've ended up with, and fanfic's role in changing my mind

So, I want to talk about Yuki Sohma.

Yuki is the member of the main trio in Fruits Basket with whom I most identify. I have little in common with both Tohru and Kyo, and it took me several watches and read-throughs to start to understand their characters/arcs. (I love them, don't get me wrong! I just didn't fully appreciate the depth of their characters/arcs until maybe my third time through the series.)

Yuki, on the other hand, not only had many external qualities in common with me, but the way he grew mirrored some of the ways I changed in early adulthood. His arc felt true to my life, and so he was my favorite character from my first exposure to Fruits Basket.

When I started reading fanfic, I initially limited myself to canon compliant or limited canon-divergence fics, but eventually, I dipped my toes into some alternate pairings. Interestingly, while I truly can't see Tohru with anyone but Kyo, and I can only see Kyo with someone other than Tohru in very specific circumstances, Yuki seems to work with almost everyone he gets paired with. I mean, Yuki and Machi are my OTP, yet I have probably read (and bookmarked) every Yuki/Kakeru fic on Ao3, and some of the most beautiful fanfic I've ever read is Yuki/Kyo.

This confused me at first. Deeply. If Yuchi is my OTP, why do I devour every Yukeru and Yukyo fic?

Well, I think that's because Yuki's arc is, among other things, one where he rejects compulsory romance. This is made explicit in the Cinderella-ish story (why yes this is my favorite part of Fruits Basket, why do you ask?), where he quite literally rejects the role of the prince - the role that's been put onto him by others through the series. I think his arc would have been complete without him ending up with Machi, but there are things about their relationship that make his ending so much more satisfying. In stories where he ends up with Kakeru or Kyo, Machi almost always appears as an important friend for him. I think, for him, having strong bonds outside the Sohmas that he forged on his own was the point, rather than ending up in a relationship.

Anyway, with that out of the way, here are my thoughts on the five most common Yuki pairings on Ao3!

Yuki/Machi

Yes. I love them. 1000/10.

Okay, so the one criticism I have of Yuki/Machi is that Yuki is strongly gay-coded throughout the series, and it would've been awesome to see that play out in the way it was set up. I think that's a huge part of why I connected with Yuki - his arc definitely reminded me of my own experience coming to terms with my own queerness. For more on this, see this exceptional post by @yunsoh

But there are so many moments between them that make me swoon. The chalk scene, first and foremost. I used that scene to talk to my partner about how to support me when my OCD or ADHD is bad. Then there's scene where Yuki figures out why Machi destroys things, then asks to make footprints in the snow together (and tells her he's proud of her! and sees how hard she's worked!). The way he bought her Mogeta memorabilia or figured out she likes red or understood her intent when she chased him around the school to give him a flower and just ended up getting angry at him. The way he understood she bought Tohru a bath set because it's what she would want, just because Kakeru made a similar remark. The way he lit up when he saw Machi's trashed apartment - "the sea of despair."

And the way Machi understood and empathized with Yuki. The way he lit up and started laughing when she called him an airhead. The way she said it took someone like him to notice someone like her. The way she opened up to him and always sought him out. The way Kakeru shipped them. The way he knew she would miss him if he were to disappear, and the way being a support to her was something he needed for himself. The way she accepted him as he actually was, and not the way he thought he was supposed to be. The way she broke the door down with a chair when Yuki was trapped in the storage room. The way he teased her!

They've both been put in seemingly desirable positions within their families, yet those positions are responsible for so much of their pain and trauma. They get each other at a deep level. There's a mutuality to their relationship that Yuki desperately needed. I love them so much!

PS: if you also love Yuki/Machi, come find me on Ao3! I'll be posting some Yuchi content later this week!

Yuki/Kakeru

They have a fantastic and fun dynamic, and they are always touching each other. Kakeru is Yuki's confidant and someone who makes Yuki feel safe in being himself, flaws and all. They help each other grow - Yuki helps Kakeru be more empathetic, and Kakeru helps Yuki become more comfortable with himself. I think this pairing would have also been a satisfying end for Yuki, full stop. I love them, and I will read all your Yukeru fics, please and thank you. (Also, lots of Yukeru writers are just really good writers, so there are some gorgeous works for them.)

Yuki/Kyo

So, I didn't get why this ship was so popular at first, but then I was reminded that Yuki's first thought when he met Kyo was "pretty!" They both secretly admired each other, they're written as foils for each other, and there's a reason enemies to lovers is so popular (and it's called sexual tension).

There's a Yuki/Kyo fic that I'd credit with showing me what fanfic can really do - especially in the ways it expanded the universe, found its own way of handling the curse, and developed the relationship between the two boys in a way that also grew their characters. That fic is The Pursuit of Repeating History by @mistergrass

I do think that Yuki ending up with someone outside the Sohmas is more satisfying for his character arc than someone from the Sohma clan, but his relationship with Kyo is such a key part of his arc that this could be satisfying in its own right.

Yuki/Haru

I absolutely love the relationship these two have in canon. I love how Haru looks out for Yuki, and I love how he drives Yuki a bit crazy. I love how Haru tells Yuki the things he needs to hear, like that it's okay for him to focus on himself for a while, and I love how Yuki braves the Sohma estate to check on Haru. I also love the way Haru can read Yuki like a book.

Haru's words to Yuki about finding someone who will appreciate his fragility and kindness are always so touching. Haru is almost a mentor to Yuki, in a way, or a fairy godmother. (Or a long lost sister?) The fact that he was the one who got Yuki out of isolation at the hands of Akito, or that he was the one person who would check on him just speaks to the strength of his loyalty to Yuki.

I take Haru's statement of "Yuki was my first love" seriously, because he tells Yuki he is serious when Yuki warns him people will take him seriously when he says that. I know there's an argument to be made that Haru is just being his weird self, but that gives me and they were roommates vibes.

Unfortunately, most of the Yuki/Haru fics are dubcon with Dark Haru, which is not something I enjoy reading. What I'd really love to read is an AU where they're together in high school or later, or something that explores Haru's early feelings for Yuki, or just something that explores interesting sides of their characters that are brought out when they're together.

I don't think this would be a terribly satisfying end for Yuki, but I do really love their dynamic.

Yuki/Tohru

Okay, so, full disclosure: I was #teamyuki when I first watched Fruits Basket. Yet now, they're the only pairing on this list that I don't like. Why? Well, as I said above, Yuki's arc is much about rejecting this specific compulsory romance.

Compulsory how? Well, from the beginning, the series seems like it's setting up a love triangle, but kind of tells us (more and more explicitly as the series goes on) that things are not what they seem.

I think the series does a phenomenal job of making the reader/viewer complicit in placing this compulsory romance onto Yuki. A brief aside, making the reader/viewer complicit in the thing a story is criticizing is one of the most effective ways to criticize something, IMO, because it doesn't let the reader/viewer off the hook. We don't get to say, "Look at them, they're so foolish!" We're forced to examine our own expectations and acknowledge that we were made a fool of, too.

I totally got tingles at the spa scene (pictured above), even though upon rewatch, it's obvious how much of an act it is on Yuki's part, and how uncomfortable it makes Tohru. In fact, many of their most "romantic" moments, where the shojo bubbles appear and everything, are when Tohru is acting in an explicitly motherly way to Yuki, and he awkwardly tries to flirt because he's either misinterpreting his feelings or in denial about them.

I also thought his line, "that isn't what I want!" when he tells Kakeru about his true feelings for Tohru is one of the most powerful moments in the series. It's the moment he's finally letting go of being the Princely character and choosing to be himself, for himself, because he deserves to be known and accepted - something he'd never fully believed until that moment.

I think part of why I was initially #teamyuki was because I came to Fruits Basket through the anime first, where much of the development of his relationship with Machi was cut. Also, as I said above, I didn't really get the characters of Kyo and Tohru right away, and I think that prevented me from seeing the power of their romance. The True Form arc was a key moment that I truly didn't understand until several viewings/readings later.

So, all of that is why I don't care for this pairing. I get why people do, but I do feel it undermines Yuki's agency and his character arc. It's a pairing that makes me sad when I see it, as if this character I love has taken a step backward.

(Incidentally, I've been wanting to write a fic where the True Form arc plays out differently and Yuki takes longer to realize the nature of his feelings for Tohru. I truly wonder how he would've come to that understanding without witnessing her running after Kyo. Would he have tried dating her? Would it have been a total disaster?)

Other pairings and larger relationship structures

Out of the other pairings I found, the only one I'm genuinely curious about is Yuki with Saki Hanajima. I'll have to go read those fics. They are each the "cold" half of a "hot/cold" duo (the "hot" halves being Kyo and Arisa, who are basically the same person). I'm very curious what led people to pair them in the handful of fics about them!

(Interestingly, I think it's possible to read Saki and Arisa both as having a bit of sexual tension with Kyo, but not with Yuki.)

The others include Akito, Ayame, Hatori, and Shigure - all pairings that would have a noncon/dubcon element due to Yuki's age, and that's before you get into the specific traumas that these characters have inflicted on Yuki, or the inherent power dynamics between them, or the close familial relationship with Ayame, etc...

The trio relationships are all intriguing and full of possibility. Yuki/Tohru/Kyo? Obviously. Yuki/Kakeru/Kimi? Potential for lots of wackiness. Yuki/Kyo/Haru? Could be the next Mabudachi trio.

(No shade to anyone who enjoys fics with the pairings or tropes I don't like! This blogger believes in "don't like, don't read.")